


Wildcard

by Catsafari



Category: Neko no Ongaeshi | The Cat Returns, Princess Tutu
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsafari/pseuds/Catsafari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It first started with the nightmares that bled into her life, and then the questions about their past started. About both their pasts. But when reality can be twisted by words, is free will an option? SEQUEL/CROSSOVER.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreams to Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My first crossover with TCR/PTT and a little Whisper of the Heart; the idea originally came to mind after Nanenna (yes, I’m going to name you) displayed a desire to see another TCR/PTT crossover; them being “two series that could use a little more interaction”. I know the only other one of this type is a YarningChick’s, so I’m really nervous about treading on other people’s toes and not doing a story up to expectations. I did my best; I steered this as far away from Of Fur and Feathers as I could possibly manage and I hope you’re happy with the result. I’m sorry if certain (admittedly, important) characters don’t turn up, but I didn’t want to add them in for the sake of it.

_We are the writers, the dreamweavers,_

_We fabricate the line between myth and reality:_

_In our stories, we blur the line so myth becomes reality,_

_And reality becomes myth._

_x_

**Chapter 1: Dreams to Nightmares**

She was floating on a silver floor; the air seemed filled with something more magical than just oxygen. There were people watching – oh yes, there were people watching – but she didn’t care. All her attention was focused on the stranger leading her through those steps she’d relived a hundred times since that day. Leading her as if she was more than just a clumsy schoolgirl; as if she was a lady. She felt like she should know this stranger; something inside her longed for him to cast his gaze down – and she knew he would. Longed for him to speak – and again she knew he would.

“Careful Haru,” the stranger soothed, “don’t lose yourself.” He spun her round in a gentle twirl. “ _Believe_ in who you are.”

She knew those words; they had run round her head too many times before. She knew this was only a dream, but it was one she didn’t want to end.

He cast his eyes down to meet hers, a smile curving on his lips. “I said so before, didn’t I?”

She gasped and suddenly the dance broke. She had been expecting green eyes.

They were red.

And now his smile seemed to be more of a leer than a smile and the music more of a death march than a waltz and _this wasn’t right_.

She struggled to break his grip on her but at some point it had tightened and now she was caught.

There was laughter from all around her – or maybe cackling would be a better word – and the sound echoed round the hall, flooding her ears. Drowning her. She stepped back for long enough to see that the residents of the hall were no longer cats, but giant black birds, each with glittering red eyes; cold and sharp like Baron’s.

She turned back to the cat in whose arms she was held, praying that he’d returned to normal. But his eyes still glimmered like blood-red onyx stones and there was something wild and dangerous in them. Something un-Baron.

“Sorry Baron," she whispered, and she dug her newly formed claws into the arm that kept her prisoner. He howled and released her. And now she stumbled back, cradling the hand that had scratched Baron; there were a few drops of blood upon her nails, but even as she watched the blood became solid and fell away: now just pieces of wood. Hollow, empty pieces of wood. She muffled a scream and frantically brushed away at her hands, glancing up at... at what had once been Baron. She continued to stumble backwards, and suddenly the ground beneath her feet gave way and she was falling.

The familiar surroundings of the hall dissolved away; now replaced with clouded sky.

Below her, her town was rushing up to meet her; too fast, too soon.

She screamed as she fell, trying to curl herself up into a ball to protect herself from the wicked whipping of the wind on her face. It snarled her hair, stole her breath and chilled her to the bone, and yet she was still falling.

She was falling alone.

Where was Baron? Where was Muta? How could this scene be so familiar and yet so wrong?

From the shadow of her school, great black birds swarmed up towards her; their iridescent wings engulfing her in a cloud of black. For several moments she couldn’t breathe, but they wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t gain her footing; she wasn’t slowing. Instead of giving her feet a surface, they tore their beaks through her skin and now she was screaming at them to stop. Crows? They looked like ravens...

She screamed again; the ground was rushing ever closer and the birds tore ever deeper, and suddenly she was lying on a familiar green carpet.

Shakily she pushed herself off the floor.

“Just a dream,” she whispered, but even her whisper shook. She closed her eyes and the image of Baron’s reddened eyes filled her vision. She shivered and opened them.

Outside it was still dark, but even as Haru flicked on her lamp the light could not banish the shadows of that dream. Clumsily she stumbled back onto her bed, shivering still as her mind tumbled through a mess of black angular eyes, black feathers... and those red, red eyes.

A year. It’d been a year since her adventure in the Cat Kingdom, and since then she’d had dreams, but never ones like that. Never ones that... black. Never ones that had actually made her scared – scared of Baron. She passed one hand over her eyes, as if to try to wipe the sleep from her eyes or maybe the scars of the dream from her mind.

“Just a dream,” she repeated to herself, for it needed repeating, even if just to consol herself that this – _here_ – was her reality. “I’m fine, everything’s fine. I’m fine and Baron’s...”

Probably still at the bureau, her mind finished miserably when the words failed to come. Moving on. Like she should be doing. But life was complicated and somehow the cat doll was still on her mind, even as life moved on, even as she changed, even as she was sure Baron was changing... or maybe he didn’t change. He didn’t age; why should he change?

She shook her head again; these thoughts weren’t getting her anywhere. They certainly weren’t getting her any closer to returning to sleep again, although, considering her recent nightmare she couldn’t help but question whether sleep was really what she wanted. Especially as every time she closed her eyes she saw Baron... or what had looked like Baron from her dream...

After a moment’s decision, she swung herself out of bed and headed downstairs. The house creaked and groaned around her in the way a house does whenever one is creeping through it in the dead of night. A flick of a switch sent the kitchen into sharp relief, lighting upon cups and plates in the sink, a half-filled kettle and a carton of milk left forgotten on the side.

She sighed and picked up the milk, mumbling something to herself about leaving it to go off, and returned it to its home in the fridge. She shivered; tired and shaken from the nightmare, and ambled to the sink, pouring herself out a glass of water.

As soon as she’d done that, she collapsed onto a chair, sparing a glance to the clock on the wall. She groaned and half slammed her head against her arms on the table.

Half three. Half three in the morning.

Not that that made her feel any better about the whole thing.


	2. Broken Routine

**Chapter 2: Broken Routine**

“You’re late up.”

Haru dragged herself into the kitchen, barely sparing a glance up to her mother. “It’s the holidays,” she reminded her tiredly.

“Later than usual.”

Haru stifled a yawn and – for the second time that day – collapsed onto one of the chairs. “Uh-hm.”

Naoko Yoshioka looked over her newspaper; the paper in one hand, a knife and fork for her breakfast in the other. There was a small pause, then, “Were you up last night?”

“What?”

“I thought I heard someone downstairs last night – was that you?”

“I – uh, yes.”

“What were you doing?”

“Weird dreams. I went to get myself some water.”

“A nightmare?”

Haru hesitated. Calling it that made it sound so final. “Kind of.” She couldn’t quite believe she was classing any dream with Baron in as a nightmare, but there really was no other word for it.

“What was it about?”

“I… can’t remember.”

“Sometimes nightmares have meanings.”

“I don’t think this one did,” Haru replied quickly.

The only thing that dream could mean was that she was missing Baron.

Naoko spared one last glance at her daughter, then returned to her breakfast. “You haven’t had a nightmare for the last year – what’s brought this one about?”

“I don’t know.”

There was another pause. Eventually Haru stood up and started to make a cup of tea.

“Is that your special blend?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do me one too then?”

“Sure.” Haru flicked the kettle on. “By the way, mum, you left the milk out last night.”

“Did I?”

Haru nodded, her back turned to her mother as she retrieved two mugs from the drying rack, so her expression was hidden. “That’s the third time you’ve done that this week.” She paused. “If you keep on doing that, the milk will go off,” she added, as if that was the most worrying thing on her mind.

“I know, I know. It’s just… my head is so full of everything else, sometimes I forget the mundane things.”

“Well… just try to remember in future.” She finished with said milk and returned it to the fridge. “You will remember when I go, won’t you?”

“Go?”

“To uni.”

“Oh, yes of course.”

Haru sat back down with two cups of tea, passing one to her mother. She watched the redhead sip at the tea, knowing just how much she was going to miss her when she left. “You know, maybe I should stay–” she started slowly.

“No. Haru, you got in with your hard work and effort,” Naoko interrupted firmly. “No, you should go. Go and live your life. Anyway, you’ve been accepted in now.”

“I could still turn them down,” Haru said, but she knew it wouldn’t make any difference to her mother. She dropped her eyes down to her drink. In its murky depths, her own dark eyes could be seen reflecting back the same worried expression. In a sudden decision, she stood up, sweeping her tea up with one hand.

“Are you going?”

Haru forced a smile and started towards the door. “I’m going to finish this in my room.”

“You haven’t even had breakfast.”

“I’ll have brunch,” she called as she exited into the hallway. She rushed up the stairs and didn’t slow her furious pace until she was safely in her room; the door slamming behind her with an audible thud. Suddenly she halted and let herself lean back against the door. A long sigh escaped past her lips as she slipped down to the floor, her eyes closing in the wish to be ignorant. To be ignorant, to be blind to the truth. But she couldn’t take back her knowledge; couldn’t take back her realisation.

She had started to notice the peculiarities of her mother under a year ago, but had just passed it off as nothing, or maybe that was just what she had wanted to believe. But now even she could not ignore the warning signs. Even the neighbours had started to notice Naoko’s absent-mindedness. She had always been slightly... forgetful, but it was beginning to reach a worrying level now. It hadn’t just been the milk recently; Naoko had been forgetting to lock the door, had forgotten where she’d placed something, had forgotten important dates.

The room before her was covered in three or four cardboard boxes, each half-heartedly packed. Despite the fact that she had a while to go before she was due to leave for university she had already begun packing things away into the attic – and although she knew it meant less work later, it made her heart ache to see the room she’d claimed as her own slowly dissolving into the bare necessities. Now only her bed, her desk and a few choice items remained.

She hated the room the way it was now. Empty. She didn’t need the reminder that soon she would be leaving all this behind...  moving away from everything she had ever known...

And that included the Bureau.

She made a disgruntled noise as she sipped her tea. Not even her home-made brew was calming her mind at the moment, and it almost always did the trick.

However, Baron’s blend always worked.

There, again her mind had wandered onto that over-thought, over-used piece of memory. That one day one year ago that she just couldn’t forget; that she couldn’t leave behind.

“Scrap this,” Haru suddenly muttered and now she had picked herself up from the floor. “I haven’t seen Muta for a week; it’s about time I visited him again.” She shoved the rapidly-cooling cup of tea to the side – where it would probably be forgotten until later that day – and started down the stairs. She slipped into a pair of comfortable shoes as she went; reaching out for her bag by the door automatically.

“Where are you heading off to?”

“I’m going into town.”

“What about breakfa–”

“I’ll get something at the crossroads, mum. I’m meeting a friend.”

“Oh.” Her mother appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, peering down the hall. “You didn’t mention it before.”

“Snap decision,” Haru said truthfully.

“Have you... received a text or something...?”

“Not exactly. He’ll be there.”

“‘He’? It’s a ‘he’?”

Haru’s eyes widened, and then she began to double over laughing. “He’s a guy-friend, mum.” If that. Did a cat count as a guy-friend?

“What’s his name?”

“Mu–” Haru suddenly cut herself off. “Moon,” she improvised. It was his surname in a way and ‘Muta’ wasn’t an everyday sort of name that she could pass off.

“Moon?”

“Erm, that’s his last name. His first is Renaldo.”

“Oh. Is he a ... nice guy?”

“A bit gruff, but that’s all.” Haru hovered by the open door. “Mum – can I go? I was kind of hoping to be gone by now.”

“Oh, I suppose so.”

“Thanks!” Haru scampered out before Naoko could ask her anything else – anything which she might have problems answering. She readjusted her bag strap onto one shoulder and set off along the pavement, letting the cool, summer-filled breeze whip through her hair and – at least for a temporary period – blow away the cobwebs of last night’s dream. Or nightmare. Out here in the clear daylight, the dream seemed to pose little threat to her; the fear she’d felt previously almost nothing more than a dream itself now.

“Hi Muta.”

She swung into a seat and leant back, looking over at the overweight cat resting on an adjacent chair. He lifted his head and yawned before responding.

“Don’t usually see you about this early, Chicky.”

Haru checked her watch. “It’s only half ten.”

“It’s early for you.”

 “I was late up this morning, if you must know.”

“Yeah, but usually you don’t turn up here until the afternoon.” The cat stretched, then settled back into the chair. “Did you bring some food?”

“No, but I can get some.”

“Angel fruit cake,” the cat responded automatically.

“I know, I know.” Haru sighed and got up. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She made her way to the cafe and purchased the aforementioned cake for Muta; only buying a glass of water for herself.

“Are you not eating?”

“Not hungry,” Haru replied. She pushed the cake towards the cat. “I really don’t know why I feed you,” she commented, purposely ignoring the way Muta’s fur bristled at that. “I mean, you’re hardly starving, and you’ve got Baron. And,” she added quietly, “you do look like you could do with going on a diet.”

Muta audibly growled. “If you even...” he threatened.

“Relax,” the brunette interrupted, “it was just a thought. And, even if I did put you on a diet, it wouldn’t be like one less cake a week would actually make much of a difference. Not with the amount you eat,” she added quickly.

She didn’t take any notice of Muta’s irritation; just leant back in her seat instead and watched the world go by. She let her mind wander, watching each person pass by and wonder what a day in their shoes would be like. She didn’t know why she liked doing that; maybe it allowed her to escape her thoughts for a moment, to pretend that her worries weren’t her own. Or maybe it helped her to see how Baron would have seen her, that first day she had arrived at the Bureau; a quiet, nervous teenage girl, lost in her own world and lost in the newly-discovered one that the Bureau resided in.

“Hey, Chicky, you okay?”

Muta’s gruff voice brought her back to where she sat. She blinked a few times, as if readjusting herself, then smiled down at the cat. “Fine, fine,” she reassured. “Just...” She yawned and so her words trailed off. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“If you say so.”

Once again she drifted off almost instantly, and her mind explored all sorts of alleys of possibilities in her head; different choices, different times, different questions. Thoughts that wondered ‘what if’ to her past and ‘what’ to her future.

“Why do you think I can understand you?” Haru asked absent-mindedly.

“What?”

She wasn’t looking over him; her eyes glazed over. “Why do you think I can understand you?” she repeated. “I mean, I could understand cats long before I ever went to the Cat Kingdom, so why do you think I could?”

If he was flummoxed by the sudden question, he didn’t show it. Which was a very Muta thing to do, really. “Does it bother you?”

“No – of course not. It’s just... a little unusual, that’s all.” A little unusual. She’d tasted so much more than ‘a little unusual’ last year, but since then her life had settled back into its old routine, like dust. Her adventure into the Cat Kingdom had shaken the – metaphorical – dust clear, but afterwards the dust had floated back down to its original place. Undisturbed and unbothered by what had shaken it clear in the first place. That was what her life felt like. Perfectly ordinary.

Well, almost. She’d hung onto the last few strands of “strange” she had left – Muta, Toto and Baron fitted naturally into that category. Her cat-speaking ability also slotted in, although she rarely thought about it like that.

Evidently Muta had been thinking along the same lines, for he snorted at her remark.

Haru didn’t comment further at it, but a light frown burrowed itself into her features. Then she seemed to push the thought aside. “Can we head to the Bureau today?”

“So early into the conversation?”

It was Haru’s turn to laugh. “Conversation?” she echoed. “You mean, the few comments you’ve made between bites?”

“I say what I mean.”

“And mean what you say,” Haru finished, grinning. “So, are we going?”

Muta stretched out once again, but this time he actually got up. “S’pose. You wanna race?”

She grinned again. “I’ve been practising.”

The noise Muta made may have been a laugh. “Really? Come on then, see if you can keep up.” He jumped to the ground and made his way along a familiar route, weaving between the legs of chairs and heading towards an alley Haru had travelled down many times before. Haru followed, ignoring any strange looks she got for walking after a cat, and was unable to resist the smile rising to her features.

Muta looked round to check she was still there, although he didn’t doubt she was following, then broke into a run. With this cue, Haru also increased her pace, now sprinting through the alleyway. The cream cat branched off along a different route while Haru leapt up ledges until she came to a low tin roof, which she sped across. She looked up and saw Muta running along a higher roof; she didn’t bother to wonder how he’d got up there. Instead she channelled her energy into clearing a rail and landing safely on a series of thick stone steps, and with several months of practise she carried on with the same speed and came to a considerably easier section of alleyway to sprint down. Finally the alley ended and, digging her fingers into the side of the wall, she changed her direction so that she was dashing towards a low archway.

She skidded to a halt when she saw the round figure of Muta sitting in his usual seat.

“I must admit,” he started, “you _are_ getting quicker.” He casually flicked one page of his newspaper, but didn’t look up. Haru was sure though that if he did, she’d see a very smug expression.

“Cheat,” she said simply.

“Hardly.”

“If I was a cat, I would’ve beaten you without batting an eyelid,” she told him as she collapsed down on the stone paving, resting her head against the pillar in the middle of the miniature village.

 “If you were a cat, we would’ve failed in getting you out of the Cat Kingdom,” Muta reminded her from behind his paper.

“Formalities,” Haru muttered. “Anyway, my point was, if the race was on equal terms, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Whatever.” Muta leant back on his chair and knocked on the window of the house behind him – or, to be more precise, the Bureau. “Hey, _Baron_!” he hollered. “Haru’s here!”

Haru’s stomach did an unintentional flip; the butterflies returning – like always – with a vengeance. There was no sunset, but still the Bureau seemed to gleam, shine, for a moment like it was its own private star, and then the light returned to the normal mid-morning brightness.

As always.

The wooden doors of the house had swung open at some point, and a familiar form stood silhouetted against the interior of the Bureau.

The butterflies sped up in their mad dash round Haru’s stomach.

_Baron_.


	3. Bureau Business

**Chapter 3: Bureau Business**

“I see you’re still racing Muta.”

Haru grinned – mainly to hide any signs of a blush – as she realised she was still breathing heavily from her sprint there. She ran one nervous hand through her hair to return it back to the state it had been when she’d originally arrived at the crossroads.

“I’m getting better. I almost beat him today,” she insisted.

“You’re never going to beat me,” Muta muttered from behind his newspaper.

“Well maybe it would be easier for her if _you_ didn’t cheat.” The crow on top of the column Haru was leaning against rippled into life and swooped down to rake Muta with his claws.

“It’s not my fault I’m more agile than she is!” the cream cat protested as he ducked. The newspaper was quickly tossed aside as it became clear it gave very little defence from Toto’s talons.

“Maybe if you stuck to the same route as she did, it’d be fairer.”

“She knows other routes! She just decides to stick to that one!”

It was true; after several visits to the Bureau – non-essential ones, just visiting – Haru had begun to work out exactly where the Bureau was on the map. She had worked out a “human” route to the Bureau, but somehow it lacked the enjoyment of the alley route. And once she’d started to get her bearings, she’d begun to experiment with other paths – although not all of them had led to the Bureau, and on a few occasions Muta had needed to track her down and lead her out – grumbling all the way – but now she knew a few alternative routes which were similar to the original one in style and length. However, she still favoured the first one for the sole reason it made her feel as if the Cat Kingdom adventure wasn’t really so distant. As if it wasn’t a whole other lifetime away.

And it added a little abnormality into her life.

“It’s obvious for a pig like you to win, you’d have to cheat!” retaliated Toto, swooping low for another attack.

“That’s rich, coming from an oversized chicken!”

Haru laughed and turned her attention to the half-cat statuette before her. The very same one who had rescued her from the Cat Kingdom a year ago. With a little bit of help from Muta and Toto, of course. He too was chuckling, but with Haru’s gaze directed his way, it became just a knowing smile.

“Can I assume this is just a casual encounter?” he asked. “No cats vying for your attention this time?”

The brunette grinned. “No, no proposals.” It’d become almost a stereotypical joke between them. “No, nothing’s changed since last week anyway.” There was an almost inaudible sigh in her words, but she quickly shook it off. “How about you? Any clients?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“That’s coming from a talking doll,” Haru reminded him, smiling. “A talking _half-cat_ doll, nonetheless. I don’t think you’ll share quite the same definition of ‘normal’. So did you get any clients?” After a moment, she added, “Any word from the Cat Kingdom?”

“Yuki and Lune are doing fine,” Baron reassured her. “It’s become official now – Yuki’s pregnant.”

Haru squealed with delight, then reddened when she realised the response was not only girly, it was also a little too high-pitched for both Baron’s and Muta’s cat ears. “Sorry,” she hastily added in an apologetic whisper. “It’s just... I mean... _officially_?”

“They suspected, but now it’s for certain.”

“Oh... when are the kittens due?”

“This October – they’re expecting triplets.”

Haru was back to grinning manically. “That is just... too cute.”

“Yuki was hoping that you would be able to come for the christening.”

“Really? She was? Gre–” Haru seemed to stop. A light frown crossed her features while she thought through the date. October... but by them she would have left for university. She blocked out the thought of her empty room. No, she wouldn’t think about that now. Not here – not where she allowed herself to be caught up in another world, however brief. Where, for once, she could escape the mundane reality of her own life. She shook off the thoughts, and grinned. “Would that be in the Cat Kingdom?” she asked, giving a bright air to her question.

“It would, but we would ensure you wouldn’t overstay the sunrise limit.” He made no comment on her hesitation.

‘ ** _We_**?’ Haru mentally noted. ‘ ** _He’s_** _coming_?’

Out loud, she asked, “Who else is coming?”

“Most of the kingdom, and the whole Bureau has been invited.”

“You’re coming?” The question slipped out before Haru had thought it through.

He looked over at her, a smile present. “It would seem rude to turn down a request from the royal family, would it not?”

Muta plodded over; the fight between him and Toto having died down by now. “Plus someone needs to be there to make sure you don’t end up... furry,” he added. “Baron, are we going to sit outside all day, or are we going inside?”

“I don’t mind being outside,” Haru quickly said.

“Anyway,” Toto smoothly inserted, “we all know all _you’re_ thinking about is the angel fruit cake Baron baked last night.”

“I’ve already fed you this morning,” Haru accused, turning round to face the round cat. “Angel fruit cake, no less.”

“Yeah, well nothing beats Baron’s homemade cake.”

“Perhaps I really should start putting you on a diet,” Haru murmured thoughtfully.

The devastated expression on Muta’s face was enough to make even Baron chuckle dryly.

“Or maybe not,” she added after a moment.

Toto cawed evilly. “Sounds like a perfect idea.”

“Oh no, there is no way–”

“We’re not going to put you on a diet, don’t worry,” cut in Baron, sending a restraining look Toto’s way. “While it may actually be beneficial to your health,” he muttered under his breath in a voice that only Haru caught, “none of us are actually suicidal enough to _try_ it.”

Haru grinned. “So have they thought through any possible names?”

“Yuki’s already putting together a list. I believe your name was a possibility.”

Haru blushed furiously. “Really? That’s... cute.” She started giggling suddenly.

“What, Chicky?”

She shook her head, trying to clear the giggles. “Princess Haru – it’s got a nice ring to it. I never imagined I’d have a cat princess named after me. Or that a pair of cat royals would even consider my name. What about your name, Baron? Have they thought about your name too?”

He just smiled wanly. “I gave them my frank opinion of the name “Humbert”,” he said simply.

“Just “Baron” by itself wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Prince Baron?” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right.”

“Hey, are you two going to talk all day, or are you coming in?” demanded Muta from where he stood at the doors of the Bureau.

The two of them seemed jolted by Muta’s outburst, but Baron recovered almost instantly. “Quite right,” he commented. “We cannot leave our guest out in the cold, can we?”

Haru opened her mouth to maintain that actually it was a very nice day, so they could stay outside today, but saw that, one, Muta was getting rather impatient and two, Baron had already started heading inside. She sighed and followed Baron through the double doors. She was glad that she hadn’t grown massively in the last year, although it was more of a squeeze than the first time she’d entered.

“Maybe Muta isn’t the only one who should start thinking about a diet,” she muttered under her breath, although she knew there was nothing she could do about growing up.

Once through, she took her usual place on the wooden chest and allowed Baron to pass a cup of his own blend to her.

“Milk, not lemon,” he said with a smile. “As always.”

“Thanks.” She took a sip, then smiled back. “It’s one of your good batches today.” She paused a little longer while she finished the tea, letting it calm her mind in a way her own blend could never do. “So have you had any clients?” she asked eventually, bringing the conversation back to its original start. “Any at all? Even ones that aren’t ‘out of the ordinary’?”

“Well, we did take a trip to the Mouse Kingdom–”

“And you call that nothing,” she murmured into her teacup. “Were they okay with you being a cat and all?”

“I’m a Creation, as is Toto,” Baron reminded her. “Most of my cat aspects only go as far as my appearance.”

“Oh.” Haru paused, and for an amused moment she wondered what would happen if she brought catnip into the Bureau. She banished the thought quickly, but not before a smile had slipped onto her features.

“Yeah, well they didn’t take so kindly to me,” grumbled Muta as he retrieved a tin from the interior of the Bureau’s cupboards. “Oh, _sure_ , Baron and _Birdbrain_ were allowed in, but _I_ had to stay here and–”

“And stuff your face,” Toto said with contempt. “Don’t think we didn’t notice that the cupboards were significantly emptier than when we left.”

“What, you expected me to starve?”

“We expected you to maybe show some self control while we were away!”

“Right, that...”

“How are things at home?” Baron asked, ignoring the argument that was rapidly developing at the other end of the Bureau. “Everyone’s well, I hope?”

“Oh... yeah, everything’s fine,” Haru quickly replied. “Mum’s... yeah, she’s fine.”

If he heard the hesitation, he didn’t comment. Yet again.

“But enough about me,” she laughed awkwardly, “my life’s boring. I want to hear about this adventure to the Mouse Kingdom. Has it got the same principle as the Cat Kingdom?”

“You mean if it would turn you into a mouse? Yes. However the magic that surrounds the Kingdom means it only affects humans. If Muta had gone, he would have remained the way he is.”

“Fat, stubborn and pig-headed, you mean?” Toto cackled.

Haru tried to imagine how Muta would react to turning into a mouse. She had to admit, it made her smile.

“So how did the visit go? Was there a reason for it?”

“There were a few rumours about a plot against the Mouse Queen; we helped to uncover it. To be honest, we weren’t really needed. There was a mouse detective already on the case.” He sat back in his armchair while he sipped his tea. “Nice mouse actually,” he added thoughtfully. “Dawson wasn’t a bad chap either.”

“Who’s...?” She shook her head. “Oh, never mind.”

Quite finished with their previous argument, Muta ambled over. “The detective guy sounded a little old-fashioned to me.”

“He did have a brilliant mind though.”

Haru was smiling as she listened to the other three discussed their case, but soon her mind began to drift off; caught in imaginary adventures set in another kingdom, this time full of mice. She tried to picture what a kingdom devoted entirely to the small furry rodents would look like. She also wondered – out of association with her adventure into the Cat Kingdom – what they would give someone. Cheese came to mind, but apart from that, she was stumped.

And then her mind wandered onto its usual topic and her eyes glazed over a little. Hiromi used to tell her that she looked like she had her head in the clouds, but that wasn’t strictly true. She had her head in the Cat Kingdom. Back to that day; _always_ back to that singular day.

Who would ever have thought that one day would mean so much?

But she hadn’t corrected Hiromi, and so her friend had gone on to accept that Haru had just become even more absent-minded over the last year; even joked at some times that she was following after her mother. Haru had smiled and laughed at that, but that always managed to snap her out of that daydream faster than anything else Hiromi could say.

Resting her head on her knees, she slipped further into her daydream. Once again she was in the Cat Kingdom, in the royal hall or ballroom or whatever it was called. She hadn’t stayed to find out. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair, wearing an uncomfortable dress – a _highly_ uncomfortable one – in an uncomfortable situation. Wishing she was elsewhere.

And then _he_ had arrived.

He had offered his hand and asked her to dance; she had – for some wild, unknown reason – accepted and allowed herself to be led into the middle of the dance floor.

And she had danced. Not gracefully, admittedly, and not confidently. Not at first. But the dress hadn’t really been designed for dancing anyway. Gradually she had realised that she wasn’t embarrassing herself and that... she was dancing. In the arms of a stranger, no less. And yet she felt safe.

And then he had murmured words she was yet to forget, and cast his eyes down and–

His eyes were red.

“No!” Her own eyes flew open; wild and terrified. She was shivering again and the memories from last night flooded back. The rest of the occupants were staring at her, wondering what had caused her outburst. Their conversation had ground to an instant halt; she could see it in their eyes. Her gaze snapped from one Bureau member to the other, until they finally rested on Baron.

Green, she reminded herself feverishly. His eyes were _green_.

Not red.

Still they were staring; too shocked to react, too polite to make a comment.

“Sorry,” she choked and scrambled out of the Bureau, not looking back. She didn’t want to see their expressions of sympathy or shock any longer. She couldn’t stand the way they were looking at her. She dropped herself to the paved ground behind the arch, just out of the little village. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them close, trying to hold back the sobs. She shouldn’t be acting like this; like a little lost girl.

“What’s happened?”

Her head wanted to shoot up at that voice, but, ashamed of her response, she only turned it away.

“Just a dream,” she whispered, but she was sure he heard. “It was just a stupid dream. That was all, Baron. I drifted off while you were talking and had a weird dream. That was all.”

A small gloved hand rested reassuringly on her shoulder. “Haru...” he started.

“I’m _fine_ ,” she insisted. Still she didn’t look at him, suddenly afraid that if she did, his eyes would’ve changed and she would find herself with that... other Baron, the one who scared her. She shrugged off his hand; shivers visibly running through her despite the summer weather. She suddenly stood up, collecting her bag with one movement. “I should be returning home, I didn’t tell mum how long I’d be out. She’s bound to worry,” she said, all in a rush. “Thanks for the tea Baron.” She hugged her bag close to her, as if that could stop the shivering, and shakily ran off along the path.

Baron watched her go.

Why was she so frightened of him?


	4. Research

**Chapter 4: Research**

“Something’s wrong,” Baron muttered as he re-entered the Bureau. “Something has seriously shaken Haru.”

“Gee, thanks for the update.”

“You’re not helping, lard ball.”

“Well, for the record...”

Baron collapsed back into his seat behind the desk. “Would you two mind if I asked you to just pause the bickering for now?” He sighed and his eyes temporarily flickered shut, and didn’t open for a good few seconds. “Something’s wrong,” he repeated.

“What did Chicky say to you when you followed her?”

“She told me she’d just had a nightmare, but... but it seems to be something more.”

“She had a nightmare. Problem solved.”

“No... no, there was something else. When she looked at me she was... terrified.” His voice stiffened with the memory, but he continued. “Like... like she was scared of me even...”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m... no; no I’m not sure at all.”

“So she had a bad dream, big deal–”

“She was scared of me, Muta!” snapped Baron. Immediately his voice was reined under control, but that one outburst shocked both Muta and Toto to silence. Baron looked away. “I’ve never seen her look like that,” he added, quieter this time; more subdued. Or maybe just more thoughtful. “Like she couldn’t meet my eye.”

“Maybe we should move onto some business,” suggested Toto carefully after several seconds’ pause. “There’s no use on dwelling on something you can’t change.”

For a moment Baron didn’t react, but then he seemed to snap back to normal, shaking off whatever thoughts clouded his mind.  “Yes... of course, you’re right.” He moved out of his seat to open a compartment beneath the cupboards which revealed a set of filing cabinets. “You said that there was news from Kinkan Town?”

Toto hopped down from his place on the balcony. “Yes; the town is clear.”

Baron looked up sharply from where he was collecting some files. “Clear?” he repeated. “You mean... the story has ended?”

“Apparently.”

“When did this happen?”

“A couple of months ago.”

“Do you know the details?”

“Nothing much; the crows that came from that area were pretty hazy in details. Most of the humans don’t even remember that the story ever happened.”

“Was anyone affected?”

“I don’t know – something about a duck, I believe. A duck, a prince and a knight. Oh, and a raven.”

“Was anyone hurt?” he persisted.

“No... not that I heard of.”

Baron had returned to his seat, spreading out the file on the desk. “I’m still not sure that we made the right choice,” he muttered.

“Hey,” Muta spoke up, “you did what you thought was best. You said getting into any story was difficult if you weren’t involved or previously part of the “setting”.”

“You also said it was dangerous for Creations to get involved too, remember?” added Toto.

Muta snorted. “Yeah, but since when has that stopped him?”

“This was different,” the Cat Creation said quietly. “Not dangerous for us. Dangerous for what we would become. But... maybe we _could’ve_ made a difference...”

“Baron, you made the choice to stay here – you can’t change that,” Muta said gruffly. “You said it wasn’t wise; we believe you. There’s no use crying over spilt milk.”

“Okay, I know.” Baron began to rifle through the sheets. “But maybe now it’d be worth checking. We need to assess the situation.”

“You mean... go there?”

“It would be the most reliable method, yes. All in good time though.”

There was a pause.

“When do you plan to tell Haru?”

ooOoo

The slamming of the front door alerted Naoko to the arrival of her daughter. Leaning back in her chair, she called down the house, “You’re back early. How did it go?”

For a few moments there was silence. No, not quite silence, she amended mentally. There was the sound of feet being dragged through the hallway to the lounge door.

“Fine, mum,” Haru replied miserably. She leant against the doorframe, her shoulders decidedly slumped.

The redhead turned fully in her seat at the downcast tone of her daughter’s voice. “It certainly doesn’t sound as if it did. What happened; did he blow you off?”

Haru smiled weakly at her mother’s attempt to use what she probably considered to be “slang”. “No, mum,” she said, “if anything, I abandoned him.”

“Oh, was something wrong? Was there a misunderstanding?”

“You could call it that.” Haru wiped at her eyes; the redness of them betrayed the tears long dried.

“Oh, Haru, you’re crying.” Naoko was suddenly on her feet, hugging her child. “Was it something he said?”

Despite herself, Haru choked a laugh. “He’s never been anything less than a perfect gentleman,” she insisted. “And I’m not crying.”

“Then you have been. It’s strange; I’ve never heard of this Renaldo before. What could he possibly have said to make you like this?”

With a jolt, Haru remembered she had told her mother that she was meeting Muta, not Baron. “No, mum, it wasn’t anything like that,” she claimed. “It’s just... I drifted off during the conversation and... had another nightmare.”

“Another? Two in one day – Haru, sweetie, is everything really alright? Is there something going on that I should know about?”

‘ _Yeah, because I’m really going to tell you that actually I’ve been meeting a stone crow, a fat cat and a wooden cat doll for the last year, instead of just going into town; that I almost ended up married to a cat king, turned into a cat myself and fell from the top of a tower and survived due to a mob of crows. But, apart from that; no, nothing’s going on._ ’ Out loud though, Haru only replied, “No, mum. You know, maybe I’m just a bit under the weather. Maybe that’s what’s causing it.”

Naoko didn’t look convinced.

“Who is this Renaldo, exactly?”

“He’s...” Damn, what would she be able to pass him off as going to, without making her mother ask more questions or wonder why she hadn’t heard of him before? “A friend, just a friend,” she finally said.

Her mother still didn’t look convinced. “Really? Where did you meet him?”

“Um... at a dance... the Christmas Ball.”

“Oh, so he went to your school, did he?”

“No – erm, he came with some friends who’d invited him.” Haru’s head was beginning to hurt with the half-lies. “We talked, that was all.”

“And you’re still seeing him six months later?”

Haru reddened as her mind thought of Baron. “No, not... not _seeing him_ as in... _going out_.  Just... you know... friends. Mum, can I head up to my room now? I think I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

“Oh, of course. You know, if you want to talk, you can talk to me about anything.”

“Yeah, I know.” Haru started up the stairs, and as she did so, she mentally added, ‘ _Not **quite** everything though_.’

ooOoo

“Haru! Lunch!”

Haru jumped from the sudden shout, causing a line to accident skid across the page, making a clean mark across the half-formed outline of a half-cat. Damn, now she’d have to carefully rub it out without spoiling the doodle. She’d saved her sketchbook to last for packing; now it was one of a few choice items remaining on the desk. She still hadn’t decided whether to bring it with her or to leave it packed away in the attic – somewhere inside her she just couldn’t bring herself to leave something holding so many memories behind. True, they were only doodles, but they were doodles of _that day_.

“Haru! Are you coming down for lunch, or shall I leave your food out for the strays?”

“Coming, mum!” Haru flicked the sketchbook shut possessively and tucked it to the side of the desk before making her way to the kitchen.

“You took your time; what were you up to?”

“Just drawing.”

Naoko smiled slyly. “Your usual?”

“So what if it was?”

The redhead just grinned and returned to her meal. “Nothing. It’s cute though,” she added after a moment.

“Cute?” Haru repeated doubtfully. Somehow that hadn’t been the response she’d been expecting.

“It’s like you’re a little kid again; doodling and colouring in and all that. Makes me wonder where the years have gone.”

Haru resisted replying with ‘down the drain,’ sensing that maybe that wasn’t what her mother needed to hear right now. Even if was only a joke. Instead she only replied, “Yeah, you and me both.”

“Strange though,” her mother continued to muse. “This character that you’ve created... it’s something that I know you’ve made, yet I’m sure I’ve seen it somewhere before.”

Haru’s ears would have perked up if they’d been able to. “What?”

“I know, isn’t it weird? It just came to me recently, but I haven’t been able to pin it down...”

“Can you remember any names?”

“No... but I just get a sense of déjà vu every time I see your pictures.” Naoko laughed. “But that’s impossible, right?”

Haru had frozen with the fork halfway to her mouth. Could it be possible...? Could her mother have had some business with the Cat Bureau...? Or maybe... maybe she had got it all wrong... She scooped up her plate with a sudden thought. “Would it be okay if I finish this in my room?” she asked hurriedly.

“Yeah, I suppose...”

“Thanks!” Haru was already almost out of the door with her hasty reply.

“Bring the plate and cutlery down when you’re finished!”

“Will do.” Once in her room she dragged her laptop forward and waited for it to turn on. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of this before ever since discovering the Bureau. She returned to her doodle while she waited.

The eyes she liked doing most of all – that’s what always struck her about Baron. But today... today she couldn’t get the eyes quite right. They seemed to glare out at her, and so she rubbed them out. Once, twice, three times she tried and each time resulted in erasing them out. Eventually she gave a groan of defeat and moved on to sketch the rest of the head.

Her laptop to her side beeped to alert her it had loaded, and she swivelled round in her chair to select the internet shortcut.

“Thank you Google,” Haru said under her breath as she began to type. “ _Baron_...” She muttered the words as she typed them. “ _Humb_...” She paused and stared at the computer screen. “ _Humburt_...” she tried first. No, that didn’t look right. She deleted it and started again. “ _Baron Humbert_...” Was that correct? She leaned back in her chair.

“Mum!” she called.

“Yes?” Her mother was still in the kitchen by the sound of it.

“Is Humbert with an “e” or “u”?”

“At the end you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“E, I think.”

“Thanks!” She turned back to the computer. “Baron Humbert von–”

“What’s this for?”

“Homework,” Haru invented. “ _Von Gik_...”

“It’s the holidays!” her mother called back after a moment of thought.

“Research, then.” She frowned at the screen. Damn. “Mum?” she called again.

“What is it?”

“How do you spell “Gikkingen”?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Oh.” She supposed she should really have asked Baron in all their time together. Not that it had really come to mind at the time. “ _Gickanen_...” she attempted first. No results. Well, no relevant ones anyway.

“What research is this?” Naoko asked after several moments had passed by.

“Um, history,” she lied somewhat smoothly.

Her mother muttered something that sounded suspiciously like something along the lines of, “Must be one pretty obscure piece of history.”

“Uh-hm,” Haru responded half-heartedly. She turned her attention back to the screen “ _Gikkening_...”

Again, nothing.

She dumped her head against the keyboard, producing a series of nonsense words in the search box on the screen. She grunted slightly and picked her head up. What had she been expecting anyway? Baron was a however-old-he-was wooden cat doll. It wasn’t like he was going to have his own personal fan page.

However, Haru dragged herself to try once more, muttering furiously under her breath, “Third time the charm. _Gikkingen_.”

She groaned when once again nothing relevant appeared and was about to give it up as a lost cause, when one of Google’s “helpful” suggestions caught her eye with the question: “ _Did you mean **Baron Humbert von Jikkingen**_?”

She stared at the suggestion. ‘ _Well, it could be..._ ’ she supposed. It wasn’t like she had much else to go on currently. She accepted the suggestion, clicked on it and waited for the page to load.

She tapped her fingers against the keyboard impatiently. “Come on, come on.” Her hand absent-mindedly sketched round the outline of Baron on her page. When she looked back up she almost fell out of her seat.

She was looking at an almost perfect replication of the Baron Humbert von Gikkingen.


	5. An Alternative Life

**Chapter 5: An Alternative Life**

Hesitantly, Haru brought one nervous hand up to the screen.

“No... it can’t be...” she whispered. She enlarged the photo. A wooden cat doll stared knowingly back at her, frozen in a moment, frozen in his wooden state. One hand behind his back, the other clasping a cane, looking just like he’d first appeared that day Haru had seen him in the window of the Bureau.

And yet there were differences. The colour of the vest, the bowtie; even the shape of the face a bit. Yet the gleam in his eye was still there, still present.

Still him.

She scrolled down the page, skimming over the information. Every now and then a word would jump out at her.

_Lost..._

_War..._

_Inspiration..._

Haru paused to read over that; the words highlighted to another link. Out of interest, she clicked on the link and found herself on a new page – an author’s page.

“A book...?”

She read over the blurb, and her expression changed to one of disbelief.

“ _No._ _Way_.”

ooOoo

“And where are you heading off to?”

Haru froze; her hand already inches away from the door. “Um, to the library.”

“Now?”

“Yeah...  just to pick up a book.”

“Which one?”

“Um, _If You Listen Closely_.”

Her mother frowned. “Now why does that ring a bell? Who’s it by?”

“Shizuku... Amasawa... I think.”

“Oh!” Naoko was suddenly rummaging through a shelf. “I _knew_ I recognised it!”

Haru sidestepped her mother to look over her shoulder. “What... why?”

“Not in there... where would I put it?” Naoko murmured to herself. Suddenly she was running upstairs and a moment later Haru could hear her climbing into the attic. Haru waited patiently for the redhead to return, and she came carrying down a large cardboard box. She dug her way through the box and presented a worn book. “There.”

Haru looked down at the book, then at her mother. Then down at the book again.

“Mum, why do you...”

“Have this? Shizuku Amasawa is my cousin.”

“... What?”

“Yeah, she sent me a copy.” Naoko paused, then shrugged. “We were never that close and recently we lost contact.”

Haru had one hand on the book. “Your cousin...” Haru repeated. “So... she was my... my...”

“First cousin once removed,” Naoko finished.

“Yeah... that.” Haru fingered the copy thoughtfully. “Mum, is it okay if I take this?”

“I suppose... why?”

“Oh... I know a friend who might be interested.”

“Renaldo?”

“Um, his friend actually,” Haru said truthfully. “Renaldo might be interested in it too I suppose.”

“And why might his friend be interested in it?”

“Because... um, he helped me come up with my drawings in the first place,” Haru gabbled. “So he might be interested to know that there’s something similar to it.”

“Really? And what’s this ‘other friend’ called?”

“Baron. Mum, can I go?”

“Oh, alright, but I’m not done interrogating you. I want to know what type of a name is Baron.”

“A nickname.” Haru slotted the book into her bag and hovered by the door. “So I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Have a good time.”

“Thanks.”

ooOoo

Over his desk, papers littered the surface, creating a thin and easily disturbed layer of sheets. A couple of books had been shoved to the side; his ink bottle and quill carefully placed where they wouldn’t be easily knocked off. He’d had too many close shaves with Muta throwing his weight about not to learn from that. The spoilt files were a nightmare last time...

Baron himself was sitting back in his chair before the desk; one hand partially covering his face. It was an image of thorough fatigue, and, as if to complete the picture, his eyes had fallen shut at some point or another. His light breathing could have fooled someone into believing he’d slipped into sleep, but at the sound of footsteps entering the square outside, his eyes snapped open.

“It seems I have a visitor,” he muttered to himself, easing himself out of his place and starting towards the door. Before he reached it though there was a polite knocking from the front door.

“Can’t be Muta then,” Baron noted. “I can’t remember the last time he knocked to come in. Thinking about it, I don’t think there ever _was_ a time he did.” For some reason, the naturally predictable behaviour of his friend made him smile.

However, when he opened the Bureau’s doors, there seemed to be no one present. He glanced out and was about to retreat to his desk, passing it off as nothing, when a polite cough came from his left.

“Baron? You weren’t busy, were you? I’d hate to think I’d interrupted the middle of something.”

Haru. She was kneeling nervously to the side of the Bureau doors; her hands fretfully playing with the strap of her bag. On seeing her, Baron smiled and tipped his hat to her. “I said the Bureau doors would always be open to you, did I not?”

“Yeah, I know.” Her manner was hesitant; the previous fears from earlier in the day returning. She couldn’t bring herself to quite meet his eyes – not properly anyway.

“Haru, about earlier…”

“Can we forget about it?” she asked hastily. Her hands were twisting round the bag strap faster than ever, like some intricate, dizzying dance. Her eyes dropped down to the paved ground again, words struggling to come out. “I mean… it was just – just a nightmare. Just a dream. I’m sorry – I’m sorry for startling you all.”

She kept her gaze down, waiting for Baron to respond.

“Okay,” he said eventually. “We’ll put it behind us. But you know you can talk to us, right?”

Haru gave a watery smile as she remembered her mother saying something similar only that morning. “Yeah, I know.”

She flicked her eyes up to meet Baron’s long enough for him to see the smile before returning them to stare at the ground.

“Do you want to come inside for some tea?”

“No,” Haru replied quickly.

Baron hadn’t had time to even start moving. He turned to face Haru fully. “Is everything alright, Haru?”

“Everything’s fine,” Haru stressed. “I just… I just don’t feel like tea today.” ‘ _Anyway, I’m fed up of feeling like Alice every time I enter the Bureau_.’ She winced a little at the thought, but it was true. She didn’t like how she was the odd one out – which was saying something when the ‘others’ were a fat cat, a stone crow and a wooden cat. It just reminded her that this wasn’t her world – back there, out in the busy street with the rest of the human population – _that_ was her world. Here she was just a visitor.

“If you say so,” Baron replied respectfully. “Now, what is it that you came to tell me?”

“What makes you think this isn’t just a spur-of-the-moment visit?” Haru asked.

“This is your second visit of the day,” he reminded her. “And you haven’t let go of that bag once since you arrived.”

Haru muttered something embarrassedly in response to his last comment; it sounded along the lines of, “Nerves.” She reddened a little, but ignored her blush. “I’ve found a book,” she started openly, as means of explanation for her visit. “I know it sounds silly, but listen–” she pulled the book out of her bag “–it’s just like what happened last year.”

She turned the book round so he could see the blurb.

“It’s got Lune and Muta and Toto in it and… well, even you.”

Baron looked sharply up at her in shock; she dropped her eyes back down to the floor.

“Are you sure?”

Haru leant forward and followed a line with her finger. “‘ _A gentleman cat, by the name of Baron Humbert von Jikkingen, joins Takara along with…_ ’ blah, blah, it mentions Muta and Toto and explains the plot a bit, and Takara – that’s the name of the heroine in this – even ends up going to the Cat Kingdom. I haven’t read it yet, but it sounds exactly the same.”

“What’s this called?”

“ _If You Listen Closely_.”

Baron paused; mentally skimming through his memory, then shook his head decisively once. “No, never heard of it.”

“Maybe… I mean, have you helped anyone else? Maybe someone heard about you?”

“And write an almost exact replica of last year’s events?”

“Okay, maybe not.”

“Have you talked to anyone about last year?”

“No.” This was true. “And I mean, even if I had, this book was written long before that; _years_ ago even,” she added. “If anything, it looks like _we’ve_ copied from this. Like someone read it, then thought it’d be incredibly funny if they tried to replicate it.” Haru laughed a little, releasing her tension with the action, but Baron’s expression darkened.

“But... that’s ridiculous,” Haru added after a moment. “Isn’t it?”

Baron turned partially away.

“Yes... ridiculous,” he echoed hollowly.

Haru watched him cautiously. She started to say his name, then stopped herself. “I just thought it was a funny coincidence,” she said quietly. “That was all.”

Baron seemed to snap back to his normal self. “Of course,” he said brightly, although for once the tone didn’t reach his eyes. “Just a coincidence. But would you mind if I borrowed this copy? Just to see how far the similarities run?”

“Actually it’s my mother’s copy. I don’t know whether she’ll be okay with lending it out... I could go back and ask her, then bring it back to you tomorrow if she says yes.”

“What are you going to tell her?”

“I... could just tell her a friend wants to borrow it.  I mean, that’s not really lying. I’m just... failing to mention that my particular friend is...” She looked down at Baron to add emphasis. “Well, a wooden doll, I suppose.” She winced. “Okay, that’s maybe not the best description for you...”

“It covers the basics,” he dismissed.

“Hello Baron. Haru. I didn’t expect to see you here again.”

There was the slight ruffling of feathers as Toto landed smoothly on his column, watching the two below with keen black eyes.

“Hi Toto. To be honest, I didn’t expect to be back so soon either.”

“Is everything alright? What–?”

“Haru’s brought a very interesting book to my interest,” Baron interrupted before Toto could inquire further into the earlier events of the day. “ _If You Listen Closely_ it’s called. You haven’t heard of it before, have you Toto?”

“No, should I?”

“Didn’t think you would have.” Almost to himself, he added, “Yet we should have. So why haven’t we...?”

“Maybe Haru would be kind enough to leave her bedroom window open, then during the day we could read it,” Toto suggested.

There was a sudden pause as both Haru and Baron digested this idea, a mundane level of surprise present that that idea hadn’t already been put forward.

“It’s hardly like it’s going to fit easily into the Bureau,” Toto added after both of them failed to respond. “And Haru’s home isn’t that far away – it would barely take five minutes of flying time. It’d be easier for everyone.”

“I see your point. Haru, would you be okay with this?”

Haru’s mind took a few seconds longer than Baron’s to adjust to the idea, but then she just nodded. “Um, sure. My mum doesn’t usually go into my room, so you’ll be fine there. I’m going out tomorrow, so you can read it then if you want.” She paused. “Do you know where my house is?” she asked after a moment where the realisation had sunk in that Toto knew how far away her home was.

“The Bureau... takes an interest in all its clients,” Baron replied, almost perfectly smooth apart from the pause at the beginning. “After all, we wouldn’t want the ex-Cat King to come after you, would we?”

“I... suppose... not...” Haru said slowly. ‘ _They’ve been spying on me?_ ’ part of her mind wanted to scream, but another part – the part that wanted to believe in fairy tales and happily-ever-afters – whispered back, ‘ _They actually cared_.’ A small, unexpected glow lit up inside her. ‘ _I know I’ve been seeing them on a regular basis, but they’ve actually cared enough to check on me_.’

The thought made her smile.


	6. Marionettes

**Chapter 6: Marionettes**

“And you’re back again. Haru, you’ve been through that door so many times today I’m no longer sure whether you’re coming or going.”

Haru peered into the lounge and grinned. “Sorry mum. Don’t worry; I’m not going to be going anywhere for the rest of the day. I’ve just had some things to sort out.” Her grin slipped though when she started into the kitchen to raid the fridge.

“Mum! You’ve left the gas on!” she called down the hallway. She quickly switched it off; the low hissing noise relented and retreated into silence.

“Have I?”

“Yes! It’s off now though.” Damn, was that from lunch? She was just glad that nowadays the gas wasn’t poisonous, although it could give someone a killer headache. She busied herself opening windows to waft it out, also thanking her lucky stars that her mum hadn’t done anything to create a spark and send the place up in flames.

“Sorry. By the way, what did your friend think of the book?”

“He... uh, thought it was interesting.”

“What did you say his name was again?”

“Um, Baron.”

“Yes, what sort of a name is that?”

Haru wandered back through the lounge, now confident the threat had been dealt with. “I told you, it’s a nickname.”

“Any particular reason for it?”

“Mum, it’s just a nickname. There’s not usually much of a reason behind nicknames. They’re just... you know, given.”

“Okay. What’s his real name?”

“It’s a little old fashioned and long,” Haru said truthfully. “That’s why we stick to Baron.” She really didn’t want to give Baron’s whole name; afraid her mother would make the link. Or at least see a connection. “He’s a little embarrassed by it, to tell the truth.”

“And you say he was the one who helped you come up with your drawings?”

“He ... inspired them, you could say.” She supposed it was true.

“Sounds like an interesting character.”

Haru grinned weakly. “You have no idea.”

ooOoo

“So where exactly are you heading out to today?”

“Hiromi and I are heading into the city for a day out,” Haru explained, stepping up onto her bed so she could collect a jacket draped on a hanger on the curtain railing. Once collected, she tossed it over to the other pile of stuff that was slowly building up at the far end of her bed. “They’ve got a proper cinema there – IMAX and everything – and we’re planning on going out for lunch and shopping a bit and stuff. It’s a bit of a holiday treat.”

She paused in the middle of her room, trying to remember anything else that she’d need to include in her day trip. “Mobile, mobile, mobile,” she muttered, looking round. “I know it’s here somewhere...”

She spotted it behind Muta, who was resting on her desk. She mock-scowled. “You could’ve helped, fatso,” she said as she snatched it away.

He glowered and returned to his catnap. At least he hadn’t tried to scratch her for the ‘fatso’ remark.

“Do you really need all that stuff?” he grunted.

“Jumper, mobile, tissues, money...” Haru listed to herself, ticking each item off her fingers, “purse, bus and train passes, camera...” She mumbled a few more items, glancing round the room a couple more times. “I always end up forgetting _something_...”

“Yourself, Chicky?”

“Helpful, real helpful, Muta.”

She sighed and sat at the head of her bed. “Oh well, I suppose there’s not much I suppose I can do if I do forget something.” She turned round to face Baron and Toto, who were sitting on the ledge of her open window. “You’ll be okay here, won’t you?” she asked worriedly. “My mum’s downstairs, so it’ll probably be best if Muta refrains from helping himself to what’s in the fridge, but as long as you’re quiet up here, you should be fine... The book’s on the desk – well, you would be able to see it if Muta wasn’t sitting there...”

“Hey!”

“And my mobile number’s beside the phone, so if anything happens, you could contact me, although I don’t see what _could_ happen really ...”

“We’ll be fine,” Baron reassured her.

“Oh, good.” Haru stood up, brushing invisible specks of dust off her skirt. “How do I look?”

“Fine,” Muta said gruffly.

“You’re not even looking,” Haru accused.

“Yeah, well I’ve already seen what you’re wearing, so does it really matter?”

“You look beautiful,” Baron interrupted.

Haru blushed. “I would’ve been good with ‘okay’,” actually,” she murmured. “But thank you Baron.”

Muta chuckled at both Haru’s and Baron’s embarrassment, although Baron’s was a lot more subtle. “So are you off?”

“Yes ... I’ve run out of things to worry about, and I can’t think of anything else that I could’ve forgotten, so I suppose I should be heading into town now. It would be a bad start if I missed the train, wouldn’t it?” she laughed. “I’ll see you lot later.”

Baron watched Haru stuff the pile at the end of her bed into a bag. His eyes could not help but notice the evident lack of stuff in the room; a visible emptiness that couldn’t quite be overlooked.

Was she going away?

“Haru... is there a reason that the room is almost empty?” he asked, and with his question, he also noticed the boxes shoved into the corner of the room; almost like a bid by Haru to ignore their presence.

“Huh?”

“Your room,” he repeated. “Why is it so empty? Are you moving?”

Haru’s grip on the bag tightened. “No, not really... well, kind of.” She dropped her head down and carried on packing her bag, but this time with a vengeance. “But I’ll be coming back.”

Baron watched her for a couple of seconds longer, and the realisation came. Slowly, and grudgingly, but it came all the same.

“Haru, how old are you?”

The brunette tried to laugh it off. “Oh, Baron, you should know never to ask a lady that.”

“Seriously, how old are you?”

Her eyes still downcast, she realised he wasn’t going to let this go. She sighed and her hold on the bag loosened this time. “Eighteen,” she muttered.

“When were you going to tell us that you were heading off to university?”

The last of the items were literally thrown into the bag. “I should really be getting going,” she said hurriedly. “Don’t want to miss that train after all!” She snatched the bag up and rushed out of the door. The three left in the room watched her with disbelieving looks.

“Boy, she kept _that_ quiet,” Muta grunted, but even he seemed surprised.

Baron looked unseeing around the room. “Why hadn’t I realised?” he muttered furiously to himself. “She was obviously growing past the age of secondary school; why didn’t I see that?”

“You only saw her once a week usually,” Toto reminded him. “Well, officially anyway.”

“She didn’t tell any of us either,” Baron continued.

“Translation,” Muta inserted, “what you’re really annoyed over is that she didn’t tell _you_.”

“ _Not helping_ , idiot,” Toto said tightly.

“Maybe that is what I’m annoyed over,” retorted Baron, “but the fact that she was just planning on leaving without telling any of us...”

“Hey, what makes you think her departure is any easier for her?” Muta answered back. “She has to deal with it too. And it’s not just us she’s leaving; it’s her whole family and friends. Her home she’s lived in her entire life, a whole way of living. School is different to university and she has to come to terms with all that.”

“I... I suppose you’re right,” said Baron in defeat. “I should’ve realised.”

“You should’ve.”

“Moron,” snapped Toto. “Try to learn to keep your mouth shut.”

“Hey, he _should’ve_!”

Baron slipped off the window edge onto Haru’s bed and started towards the book. “Come on, I suppose we should begin what we came here for in the first place.”

Both bird and round cat looked at the statuette in surprise at the sudden change in tune; their argument cut off before it could start. But they just exchanged looks and let it go.

They supposed Baron needed a distraction.

The day rolled slowly by, but in Haru’s room the occupants barely moved. Toto rested on the open windowsill, watching Baron read, while Muta lay cat-napping on the chair, waiting for him to finish. At the start, Baron’s expression had been somewhat open, even curious, but as he delved further into the story, it took on a stormier approach. With every page turned, his actions became angrier. When, finally, he reached the end, he slammed the back cover shut.

This awoke Muta from his sleep as he opened one bleary eye. “Wassup?”

Baron sat down before the book, staring at the back cover.

“Word for word,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

“What?”

“Word for word,” he repeated, undercurrents of normally well-controlled anger swelling in his voice. “This story isn’t just similar to what happened... it’s identical. Word for word. In almost every aspect. It even quotes – or I quote it – everything I say to Haru.”

Toto hopped down from the ledge. “But... if that’s true then...”

Baron nodded miserably. “Yes, then we’ve been involved in a story. Not just involved. Controlled. I suspected, but I didn’t want to voice my thoughts.”

“You said people with that power were dying out,” Muta muttered, although he was getting up and joining Baron on the desk. “You said that the last proper person with that power died ages ago.”

“The last well-known one,” Baron corrected. “He had descendants. He also found a way around the problem of death, but that happened in Kinkan Town. Here, I suspect it’s a case of a descendant rather than Drosselmeyer himself.”

“What do we do then?”

“What _can_ we do? The story’s finished. Ended. Over. It’s not influencing us anymore.”

“But I thought this was written years ago – why would it come true now? Why years after it was finished?”

“I don’t know,” Baron said through gritted teeth. “Not all stories written by a Drosselmeyer descendant come true, although sometimes a dramatic event surrounding the author can jump-start the story into existence even after it has been finished. But I don’t know, not without further knowledge.”

Toto flew over to the book, skim reading the blurb. “The main character is called Takara though... That’s weird.”

“The whole thing is weird,” agreed Baron, tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose. “We all confirm to our description in the book, _except_ Haru. She doesn’t have the same name, the same appearance and she doesn’t quote it in any way, shape or form. Takara doesn’t even save Lune from the truck; she takes him in after being injured by the truck and nurses him back to health. The only differences between this book and real life are the changes surrounding Takara compared to Haru.”

“Well, Baron, we _are_ Creations,” Toto reminded him. “She’s human; maybe the author didn’t have enough power to control her too?”

“No, that’s not it,” contradicted Baron. “Even Lune and Muta are identical in the book, more or less, so it’s not that. Haru is... too different from Takara. In a good way,” he quickly added. “But... oh, I don’t know. Takara can’t even talk to cats in this.”

“But if Takara can’t...”

“Exactly,” Baron cut in. “If Takara can’t, then Haru didn’t gain her abilities through this story. In fact she seems entirely unaffected by it at all–”

Baron suddenly stopped.

“Oh.”

“Baron, what is it?” demanded Muta.

Toto seemed to be on the same wavelength as the tawny cat. “No, she can’t be,” cawed the crow. “We would’ve known.”

“Would we?”

“Baron, what is it?” repeated Muta impatiently.

The two Creations exchanged glances.

“Haru’s... a Wildcard.”

“But that would mean...”

Baron cut in before Toto could finish. “She can’t go to Kinkan,” he said decisively. “There is no way we’re going to put her in that sort of danger. Even if we were originally planning on letting her go, now it’s official. We can’t.”

Muta snorted. “And how do you plan on telling her that? She’s become even more independent since the Cat Kingdom adventure.”

“I know, I know.”

“She’ll be useful though, you’ve got to admit–”

“She’s not coming,” Baron said forcefully. An underlying growl threatened to rise in his throat. “We can let Drosselmeyer discover her.”

“I thought you said Drosselmeyer died?”

“He did, but... oh, it’s complicated. Didn’t you look over the Kinkan Town files _at all_ , Muta? Things have changed recently, but Kinkan Town was completely overwhelmed by stories – especially Drosselmeyer-charged ones – at one point. Something caused that to change, but the town is still very vulnerable to change. Anyway,” he added darkly, “Drosselmeyer found a way to write even after his death. Kinkan Town isn’t safe for Haru. End of story.”

“How do you plan on telling Haru this?”

“Do you plan on telling her _what_ she is?”

“And how do you suggest I do that? No, no,” Baron muttered, “it’ll be safer for Haru if she doesn’t know about her... powers. If she knows, it only puts her in danger.”

“And if you keep her in the dark, when the truth finally comes out she will not easily forgive you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” snapped Baron. He turned away. “I’m just doing what I think is best. If anything happened to her when I could have stopped it, I would never be able to forgive myself.”

“Don’t you think Haru should have the choice whether she comes or not? Maybe, if she knew the risk...”

“She would still come,” the tawny cat murmured. “Toto, even if she did know the dangers, she would still come. You know that.”

Muta was frowning. “Baron, you told me what a Wildcard was – you said it was someone who cannot be affected by stories – which is why Chicky is so different from Takara – so wouldn’t she be the safest out of us all? If Drosselmeyer can’t affect her with his stories...”

“If only it was as simple as that...” Baron murmured, closing his eyes. “But, you see, there’s more than one way to change a person. Words, even when not part of a story, can run as deep as those written down in ink. Trust can lead a person to do foolish things; desperation and confusion can lead to hasty decisions and ... one word carefully placed can persuade a person to an irrational action, one they’ll regret. Don’t you see? Drosselmeyer wouldn’t have to control Haru through writing – he knows how people work, how they can be twisted. Haru doesn’t know what her power could do – how often, using it for a good reason doesn’t always bring about a good outcome. How, if used hastily, it can result in a tragedy, no matter the intention.”

Baron audibly growled this time with one last thought.

“And if there’s one thing I’m certain, it’s that Drosselmeyer loves a good tragedy.”


	7. Eye of the Beholder

**Chapter 7: Eye of the Beholder**

“So what did you think of the film?”                            

Haru gave a non-committal shrug and continued to sip her tea. “It wasn’t bad.” They had recently left the cinema and found a café in which to sit back and discuss the day’s events.

“Meh, personally the hero was a little bit too knight-in-shining-armour for my tastes,” Hiromi criticised, making a face. “It was surprising he didn’t arrive on a white horse.”

‘ _Try a black crow_ ,’ Haru’s mind added conspiringly. A small, knowing smile flittered onto her face. “Some girls like that sort of thing.”

“What, are you saying you’d fall for a guy like that?”

“If the guy cares enough for the girl to even consider acting like her knight, it’s sweet,” Haru replied. “There aren’t enough gentlemen in the world today.”

Hiromi raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Are you thinking of a particular person?”

“What? Of course not! It was just an observation!”

The lighter brunette surveyed Haru with a look Haru decided was several notches too close to scheming for her liking.

“No…” muttered Hiromi, “see, when you said it, your eyes glazed out, as if you were thinking of a certain person… and I’ve only ever see you do that over Machida…”

Haru scoffed and waved one hand away dismissively. “Pfft, I so got over him last year.”

“Then it _is_ someone new!”

“Wha- no!”

But Hiromi had discovered she liked this new idea; toying with it as if it was some new game or plaything. “You _have_ been even more absent-minded over the last year than previously…” she noted, “so he’s been on your mind for a while… and then there was the day Machida broke up with his girlfriend, and you didn’t bat an eyelid…”

“Hiromi, it’s called getting over someone,” Haru said slowly.

“What, in one day?” Hiromi paused, looking thoughtful, or at least she would have done if she wasn’t taking a particularly large slurp of her strawberry milkshake at that moment. That done, she waved the half-full cup vaguely in Haru’s direction. “That was the day after you rescued that cat, wasn’t it?”

‘ _If only you knew the entire story behind it_.’ “Machida broke up with his girlfriend the day after that, yeah,” Haru answered out loud. She doubted Hiromi would make any connection between ‘that cat’ and how she’d seemingly miraculously got over Machida the next day.

“Didn’t you hit your head?”

Haru sighed. “No, Hiromi, you just thought I did.”

“Haru, you thought the cat had talked to you,” Hiromi said in a patronisingly slow voice.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You obviously weren’t feeling well.”

“I was feeling _fine_.”

“I’m just thinking that maybe that knock on the head helped clear Machida from it.”

Haru laughed. “Okay, you’ve got me. Yes, I knocked my head; that’s why I thought I could talk to cats and why I got over Machida so suddenly. Now will you give up on the subject?”

Her friend narrowed her gaze in a calculating glare. “I still haven’t struck off the possibility of a secret boyfriend.”

“Believe it all you want; it’s not going to change anything.”

“You would tell me if you were secretly seeing someone, wouldn’t you?”

“What secret could I possibly keep from you?” Haru forced a laugh. “Especially one as big as a boyfriend.”

“Okay, so now we’ve got that sorted, will you stop glancing down at your phone?”

“Sorry, what?”

Hiromi sighed. “You’ve been checking your mobile all day. Are you expecting a call?”

Haru smiled and tucked the phone into her bag, but didn’t’ turn it off. “Sorry, I really hadn’t realised I was doing it. No, I was just worried that mum might want to contact me.”

“Really, how are you going to survive when you go to uni if you’re this nervous for one day trip?”

Haru’s smile weakened. “I’m asking myself the same question.” Her mind flickered back to that morning; how had Baron taken the realisation that she was leaving to go to uni? She had fled the scene before she saw his reaction. But she could guess he wouldn’t be too happy she’d kept it from him for as long as this.

‘ _I wonder how long it’ll be before the truth about mum comes out too?_ ’ She tensed at the thought; no, her mother’s condition… or whatever it could be called… wasn’t official yet. A few moments of forgetfulness here and there meant nothing. Maybe it was just a midlife crisis or… or something. Maybe it really was just coincidence…

“Hey, Haru, are you okay?”

Haru’s attention snapped back to the here and now. “Yeah,” she automatically said. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Hiromi had one head tilted, looking strangely at her friend. “Have you caught a bug or something? You look really tired.”

“Yeah, that’s it; I’ve got a cold.” Haru wiped her eyes. “I didn’t have much success with sleeping last night. I don’t know… but I seem to be having a few nightmares. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Hiromi watched Haru for a few seconds longer, sipping the last of her strawberry milkshake. “Maybe we should spend a little longer here, then head back home. You look ready to drop.”

Haru grinned shakily. “Thanks.”

ooOoo

“But no word of this to Haru, right? She has quite enough on her plate without additional issues.”

Toto and Muta exchanged glances, making that the second time they’d done so that day without arguing.

“You want us... to lie to Haru?” Toto asked slowly.

“No,” said Baron instantly. “Just... stay away from the subject.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“I’ve already told you,” Baron said in a low, impatient voice. “If she knows, it’ll only put her in danger. Especially if we leave for Kinkan Town – I’m not going to run the risk of letting Drosselmeyer discover her.”

“Even though you have no intention of letting her come to Kinkan in the first place,” Muta said bluntly.

“Yes, even though I have no intention of letting her come to Kinkan in the first place.”

He ignored the strange looks he was receiving from his two friends.

Toto ruffled his feathers finally and hopped up to the window. “Okay, okay, we’ll let it go – for now. Anyway, I need to go on my rounds and check round the town.”

Muta stretched and rose ungracefully to his paws. “And I should probably be returning to the crossroads,” he added. “You coming, Baron?”

“What? Oh, no I’m fine. I want to go over _If You Listen Closely_ again; see if there’s anything I missed out.”

“I’ll be around the area,” Toto offered as he perched on the window, preparing himself for flight. “If you need a ride back to the Bureau, I’ll be nearby.”

“Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind.”

ooOoo

All around her, the train hummed and droned, rocking in an almost hypnotic manner.  The _judder-judder-judder_ rhythm of the train on the tracks stole into her bones, lulling slowly into a mechanical lullaby while the _whirr-whirr-whirr_ of the wheels spinning underneath her served as a loose pulse; whirring in and out like a metallic heartbeat. Her own heart stumbled into the same rhythm.

Her eyes kept flickering shut; threatening to let her slip into a sleep, but probably not a dreamless one.

To her side, Hiromi was talking – Haru didn’t know what about. Something about the day, something about Tsuge, something about plans for… something. Haru didn’t catch the details for exactly what it was. Hiromi’s voice seemed muted – this, Haru knew, was caused by tiredness on her part.

Outside the city flashed past. Momentary images registered in her brain, but didn’t really go in. Trees, buildings, grey, road, grey, shops, green, signs, black…

The train jolted, screeching as it came to a halt. Haru shuddered with the grating screech as the coarse noise ran right through her. They weren’t at their stop yet, but Haru glanced to her side to check with Hiromi all the same.

Hiromi wasn’t there.

She shifted her gaze around the train carriage.

The place was empty.

Must. Not. Panic. Haru groaned and clenched her eyes shut; her heart feeling strangely laboured. The sound which had almost lulled her into a state of sleep was gone, but the train hadn’t stopped despite the unnatural silence that had engulfed the train. Just juddered. The train was still moving. Definitely still moving.

Haru got up to check the window; the landscape had changed. The world beyond the train was now hidden behind a thick crop of cattails…

 _Cattails_?

Now she was on her feet.

“Oh no. No, no, no…” she began to rant. “Oh no, there is no way I’m back here…”

Would anyone even notice she’d gone? What would happen if she became stuck as a cat? Maybe once Baron realised she’d disappeared, he’d help…

Haru fell against the seat again, having backed so far that she’d hit the seat and window behind her with some force. Cattails… definitely part of the Cat Kingdom. She glanced down at herself – no, the change hadn’t started yet. That meant she still had some time.

The train broke free of the tall plants; coming out onto a large stretch of pasture-like landscape. For a moment Haru stared out, then the train smacked to a stop, like it’d hit something or someone had knocked against the brake. Unprepared, Haru found herself flung to the back of the carriage, losing her breath as her body made contact with the wall.

Gasping, blinking back tears of pain, Haru slowly stood up. One hand was pressed shakily against the wall as her legs threatened to give way under her. Now she really stared.

When the train had halted, the lights had temporarily flickered off, and now – even with the lights back on – there was something… dark about the place. Even outside, where in the Cat Kingdom night never came, the world was succumbing to the dusty hue of nightfall. Shadows clung to every corner, every shape out beyond the window. Even as she stared, the shadows seem to move. Move towards her. And now the shadows took shapes; the shapes of midnight crows. Eyes she’d previously mistaken to be black were an eclipsed shade of red, and getting closer.

She let herself slip back down to the floor. If this was a nightmare, let this end now. She curled up, turning her head away so the shadows could not see her fear.

“Haru?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that voice.

She peeked out into the train; now in the middle stood a familiar figure. Sobbing with relief, Haru sprung up from the floor and ran over to the cat figurine that now stood at the same height as her. Shoulders shaking with emotion, she buried her head into his chest, allowing his smooth words to comfort her.

“Haru, it’s okay – you’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise. I’ve got you.”

Something – a note or edge or something – changed in his tone. A predatory air had slipped into those last words; something that Haru had only heard once before.

And only ever in her nightmares.

She froze; her tears sliding further down her cheek, but no further tears joined them this time.

Slowly she pulled her head away from his chest and cast her gaze upwards, this time to meet his eyes.

“Haru, this is our stop!”

Haru shrieked and jumped out of her seat. A moment later, the train’s stereotypical screech as it grounded to a halt joined her shout, but not before Hiromi had heard her.

“Hey, Haru, you fell asleep,” Hiromi said, gentler this time, and she gave Haru’s shoulders a small shake to return her fully to the waking world. “Whatever happened, it was just a dream.”

Red, his eyes had been red. That last image wouldn’t leave her mind, however much she tried to ignore it. She clenched her eyes shut again, but couldn’t shut out that image. Red eyes burned in the back of her mind. Not Baron, that wasn’t Baron, it couldn’t be...

“Hey, come on, we’re going to miss our stop.” Hiromi prodded Haru in the arm to get her moving. “We haven’t got time to dilly-dally.”

Something automatic inside her forced her to repress the shivers and collect her bags. “Yeah, okay I’m coming.” The response was involuntary, and it was the only way she could hide the fear that had rooted itself deep in her bones. She forced a smile before Hiromi could ask if she was okay. “I’m coming.”

ooOoo

At the sound of someone entering Haru’s room, Baron instinctively reverted to his wooden state. He had his back to the door, so he could only listen to the footsteps picking out safe patches of floor.

“Honestly,” a woman’s voice tutted, “she has almost everything packed away in boxes and she _still_ manages to make a mess. Incredible.”

‘ _I thought Haru said her mother wouldn’t come up_ ,’ Baron noted.

After making her way to the side of the bed, Naoko slipped the duvet covers free of the duvet itself; continuing to do the same with the pillow cases. Realising this reassured Baron, but then the woman stopped and one hand curled itself around him, lifting him off the desk.

“Hello. You look awfully familiar.”

He was glad he was in his wooden state; it was a lot harder to look confused.

“Let’s see, let’s see,” Naoko murmured and she brought out a slim sketchpad from between the side of the desk. She flicked open to a random page. An amused grin slipped onto the redhead’s face. “Ah, thought so.”

Baron found himself being set back down on the desk at a convenient position so that he could see the subject of the drawings. And so his surprise was almost visible even in his current state when he found himself staring back at a mirror image.

‘ _She never told me she could draw_.’

Naoko sighed and sat on the computer chair drawn up to the desk, flicking through the dozens of drawings residing in that personal sketchpad, all more or less of the same character, and all from that day, one year ago. Each picture contained a memory.

“She’s been drawing for under a year – I always wondered where her inspiration came from. And there seems to be a story behind it, although I never got Haru to explain it.”

They came to the most recent page and the last one was incomplete; it was again of Baron, but the eyes had been abandoned. A smudge stretching over where both eyes should have been hinted at a desperate attempt to get the eyes right; a battle that had ultimately been lost.

“Strange,” Naoko mused. “She always loved drawing your eyes – I can see why, they look alive even in this light. She’d always do your eyes first, work out what emotion was being shown, and continue from there. It seems like she suffered lack of inspiration here.”

‘ _She couldn’t look me in the eye_ ,’ Baron remembered; the memory painful to relive. The image of a confused, scared Haru crouching behind the arch dragged itself to the front of his mind; he tried not to close his eyes as the memory stung. A sigh from Haru’s mother brought him back to the present.

“I wonder why she kept you a secret,” Naoko questioned aloud, examining the wooden statuette carefully. “She never mentioned she had a muse for all her drawings. Mind you, that probably isn’t the only thing she’s keeping quiet from me.”

‘ _You and me both_.’

“She’s probably told you more than me,” Naoko continued, turning round Baron to gaze into his eyes. Baron found himself noting her eyes weren’t the same as Haru’s – Naoko’s were more of a green-grey. “She loves to draw you... you’re probably a lot closer than I am. She probably talks to you about things.” Naoko threw back her head and laughed. “And here I am, talking to you as if you could answer me!”

However, she almost immediately returned to her thoughtful state. “Haru and I still talk and everything, but we seem to be drifting apart... there’s not that same closeness there used to be. Well, I knew one day she’d grow up and move away and everything but... but it’s still hard to comprehend. To realise what it actually means.”

She smiled gently down at the wooden Baron. “If you can understand me, can you pass that on to Haru?”

As Naoko watched, the eyes of the mysterious cat doll seemed to catch the light for a mere second, and she let her fool herself into believing it was a soft affirmative. Her smile strengthened slightly, but remained gentle. “Thank you.”

The shrill ring of the doorbell broke Naoko’s thoughts and instinctively she rose, forgetting to release Baron as she swept downstairs. “Coming!” She had almost arrived at the door before she remembered the statuette she was carrying. She laughed, shaking her head at her own mistake, and set him quickly down on the lounge table before continuing to the door.

By the sound of it, it was just the post. This was confirmed when Naoko dumped a pile of letters and junk mail beside Baron, muttering something about the appalling lack of efficiency of the post and turning up at odd hours, before disappearing into another section of the house.

Baron remained in his wooden state as he waited, wondering when Haru would be back. He was well acquainted with the art of remaining unmoving for hours on end, but instead of letting himself fall into slumber – or as close to slumber as a Creation can get – he let his eyes roam about the Yoshioka lounge. It was a joint lounge and kitchen, and by the look of it, the kitchen table was used as a sort of study too, since it was littered with quilting patches. It was quaint and carried everything a room combined to be a lounge and kitchen would need, although this gave a slightly rushed feel to the room; this impression probably wasn’t helped by the fact that just about every surface was covered with either papers, quilting materials or kitchen utensils.

And there was something else, something that stood out. Baron couldn’t place it for a moment, but maybe that was because his own home lacked the same thing; however it nagged at the back of his mind, eager to be heard. Something wasn’t quite right. And then he realised.

There wasn’t a single picture.

Not one photo frame or tattered photo or anything that held a direct memory was present.

The walls were bare.


	8. A Few Home Truths

**Chapter 8: A Few Home Truths**

“No, Hiromi, no I’m fine. I’m _fine_!” Haru was batting off her friend’s worries with increasing stubbornness. “No, I’m not ill, I’m fine.” She basically fell inside her house as she battled off more of Hiromi’s helpful comments on her current complexion. “Well, yes, even if I do look pale, there’s not much I can do about it. See you later.” Desperation to escape her friend’s attempt at playing doctors meant she accidently let the door slam.

“Are you okay, Haru?”

“I’m _fine_ , mum,” stressed Haru. “Wow, why does everyone keep on asking me that? I’ve just been having a few weird nightmares, that’s all.”

“Maybe people are asking you that because you’re acting strangely.”

Haru entered the main room where her mother was dealing with dinner. She made a face. “Strangely?” she repeated doubtfully.

“Okay,” Naoko amended, “stranger than usual.”

Haru rolled her eyes and moved to explore the fridge. “Thanks mum.” Then, remember that her mother was making dinner, she moved to look over her mother’s shoulder. “What are we having?”

“Pasta. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good. Oh, and I started to strip your bed, but got distracted. Could you bring your sheets down and dump them in the washing bin?”

“Do I get fed if I don’t?” Haru teased.

“You’ll be living on stale bread and water.”

Haru grinned. “Okay, I suppose that’s motivation enough. Be down in a moment.”

She made her way upstairs and wasn’t too surprised to see that the room was empty – she could hardly expect Baron and everyone else spend all day investigating a book that just happened to have a similar plotline to her adventure. She expected they all had somewhere to be. However, as she collected the sheets into a green and red chequered mass, her eye caught the open sketchbook.

‘ _Oh, they **didn’t**..._ ’

Haru’s heart sunk as she dropped into a great, dark, _deep_ pit of embarrassment. There was a reason she kept that sketchbook tucked to the side – Hiromi thought she was mental with this ‘obsession’ but not only was it awkward, but in some ways Haru could see that it _was_ a sort of obsession. She had no pictures of that day, only memories, so she had had to create solid memories by her drawings. And, from that day, memories of Baron stuck out most.

But the fact that he’d seen her drawings...

She blushed so deeply she was sure it was reaching a hazardous level. How was she ever going to explain to Baron...?

She busied herself with carrying the sheets downstairs, trying to ignore the embarrassment. “Mum!”

“Yes?”

“Have you been going through my stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Like my sketchbook, for instance?”

“Oh, sorry. I couldn’t resist. I just had to compare it to the real life thing.”

_Real._

_Life._

_Thing_.

The words hit Haru like she was being carried off by cats again. She furiously feigned innocence.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the little wooden doll you seem to have brought home without telling me.”

Having finished with the sheets, Haru rushed into the lounge. “You’ve seen him?”

Naoko seemed surprised by her daughter’s seriousness. “Yes – he was just on your desk. I placed him on the table.” She waved in the vague direction of the low coffee table that was overloaded with papers. Haru quickly located Baron behind a newspaper, who was being used as a prop for said paper.

“ _Mum_ ,” harassed Haru, “don’t go through my room.”

“I’m sorry – I accidently brought him downstairs.”

Haru was already racing up the stairs.

“I’m so, so, _so_ sorry, Baron,” she apologised profoundly, setting him back on the desk once she had returned to her room. “I honestly didn’t think mum would come up here. If I had...” She spotted the still-open sketchbook and snapped it shut, pushing it to the side to squash the remaining hole of embarrassment that was threatening to boil up again.

Baron shook his head stiffly, aching a little as he regained use of his muscles. “It’s alright,” he said. “I’m quite used to such situations. It comes with being a Creation.”

Haru hesitated, unsure how to respond. “... Quite,” she finally said. She smiled weakly at him, fiddling nervously with her jacket as she tried to think of something else to add. Fortunately, it seemed Baron had a few things to ask.

“Haru, is everything okay between you and your mother?”

He thought he saw a flicker of panic creep into her chocolate eyes. “What makes you say that?”

“Your mother had a one-sided conversation with me. Have you fallen out?”

“No... not exactly. Just drifting apart slowly.”

“Yes, she said that too. Is there a reason for that?”

“I don’t know!” Haru snapped. “People drift apart all the time; it’s just something that happens!” She clamped her hands in front of her mouth instantly. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just... stressful.”

Baron extended one gloved hand and placed it reassuringly on her shoulder. “It’s perfectly normal. Relationships are hardly simple things; often a breakdown of one is a stressful event.” He noted, with some relief, that she didn’t try to shrug him off this time.

“It’s... it’s not a breakdown of our relationship,” Haru insisted feebly. “It’s just I’m going to uni and she’s staying here, so there’s a little bit of distancing going on between us. We’re just not as close as we used to be.” She noticed a slight tensing in Baron’s manner at the mention of the word ‘uni’. She blinked guiltily. “I suppose you’re still angry that I hadn’t told you about university,” she said in a small voice.

“Not angry, just confused.”

“Well, you should be angry,” Haru muttered. “You have every right to be. I was hiding the fact that I was leaving; I can’t see you doing anything like that.” Too occupied with her own thoughts, she missed the flinch Baron gave in response to her words.

“Why, Haru? You know you can talk to us, so why did you hide it?”

“Because... I suppose... I didn’t want to admit even to myself that I’d be leaving,” Haru murmured. “Vocalising it makes it sound so... so final. I was afraid you’d treat me differently or make a big thing out of it.” She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the image of the Bureau going on without her. “I was selfish,” she admitted.

“No–”

“Yes I was. I didn’t like to think about the fact that when I left, you would all continue life without me.” She swallowed back her embarrassment. “It’s an insecure thought, that was all.”

“We will all have to...” Baron was going to say ‘move on’, but that didn’t sound right – that sounded like a goodbye. “Adapt,” he said eventually. “But...” He almost said ‘you won’t be forgotten,’ but again that sounded like a goodbye. And he didn’t want to accept the possibility of it being an ending any more than Haru did. “But we will see each other again. You’ll come back and, like I promised before, the Bureau’s doors will always be open to you, be it day or night.”

Haru laughed gently. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me that until then ‘trust myself’ I suppose?”

Baron smiled back. So she remembered that? “Something along those lines.”

Haru sat back, more content than she had been in a long while; her fingers tapping absent-mindedly against her sketchpad. “Hey, Baron? Thanks for being so forgiving.”

She didn’t see the pained expression on Baron’s face. “There’s nothing for me to forgive,” he muttered as he thought of his previous conversation with Muta and Toto. “We all make mistakes,” he added guiltily.

‘ _Please let me be doing the right thing_.’

ooOoo

 “Mum, what else is in that box?” Haru gestured to the cardboard box that lay forgotten in the middle of the lounge floor.

Naoko leaned over from her place at the kitchen table to see what Haru was referring to. “Stuff,” she said vaguely, and turned back around to her quilting material. “You can take a look if you want.”

“Thanks.” Haru gently delved into the depths of the box, unsure what she was going to find. “I’ve never seen any of this stuff,” she commented as she pulled out a brown package. She lifted it up to eye level as she gave it a critical look-over. “Can I open this?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Haru tore one finger along what looked like really old duct tape that kept the package together; carefully pealing it open once done so. A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips. “Oh, mum, you didn’t tell me you danced.” She pulled out a summer-yellow leotard; a pair of matching satin shoes found tucked neatly beneath.

“What?”

Haru held up the leotard for her mother to see. “It is yours, right?”

Naoko’s brow furrowed in thought as she claimed the brightly-coloured one-piece. “I... suppose it must be. I... I used to dance all the time.” The frown deepened, but with sadness. “But that was such a long time ago.” She fingered the material longingly. “Such a long time ago.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Why did I stop? I ... I don’t know. I suppose... I suppose life got in the way.”

Haru stared at her mother for a few seconds longer as the older woman tried to recall memories that were refusing to surface, then turned her attention back to the box. Her hand found a couple of photo frames. “Where’s that?” she asked, and showed one of the photos to her mother. On it was her mother, around thirty, standing before a grand set of steps leading up to some kind of academy.

Naoko’s eyes seem to glaze over for a moment. “I... guess it’s the dancing academy I attended.”

“You attended a dancing academy?”

“I... yes.”

Haru looked down at the young woman in the photo, then back to the elder version. “What do you mean, ‘you guess’?”

Naoko paused, then shrugged. “I can’t really remember it – I remember I went to an academy when I was younger, then I went on to be a teacher there... but after that it’s kind of a blur.” She laughed. “The old memory isn’t as good as it once was, but it can’t have made that much of an impact on me if so few memories remained.”

Haru smiled grudgingly and returned her attention to the contents of the box, her fingers passing uncertainly over the other frames. Would her mother remember them, or would they just be vaguely familiar, like the first one had been? Just an indistinct blur of a memory, just an image on a page? The second photo was of her mother again standing on the steps to the academy, but this time accompanied by a man a few years her senior.

“Do you remember him?”

“Who?”

Haru passed over the photo frame. “You look like you were once close,” she commented. ‘ _Duh_ ,’ her mind muttered quietly. ‘ _The fact he’s got his arm around her kind of proves that_.’

But Naoko’s face was still blank. “Sorry, his face doesn’t ring a bell.” She gave it back to Haru. “Maybe he was just another one of the teachers.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She hoped her mother couldn’t see the shock in her downturned face. She quickly stood up, collecting the rest of the items and returning them to the box. “Can I go through the rest of this in my room?”

“If you want.”

ooOoo

“Did you accidently pack something away?”

Haru elbowed her bedroom door shut. “No, but I’ve found some of my mum’s old stuff and she said I could take a look.” She glanced over at the cat doll resting on her desk. “I thought you were heading back,” she added as she dumped the box amidst the other ones.

“Are you missing your peace and quiet?”

She reddened immediately. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she protested. “I just meant... you said you might return to the Bureau...” She decided to cut her rambling short before anything stupid slipped. Which was painfully inevitable if she continued to ramble in the way she was currently.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind if I imposed on your hospitality a little longer.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind at all,” Haru said quickly. “But I’m just going to turn my attention away from _If You Listen Closely_ for the moment.” Her hand somehow found the same photo frames as before. She gazed at them for a few seconds, before setting them fondly on her desk. “I hope you’re okay with that.”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m...” He suddenly trailed off. He moved closer to the first two photo frames; suddenly some unclear emotion clouding over his tawny features. “... fine...”

Haru looked up. “Baron?”

He tapped the nearest photo with the end of his cane. “Where was this taken?”

Taken aback by the abrupt question, Haru didn’t answer immediately. “I... I don’t know. Mum didn’t say where it was,” she said finally. “She said she used to go to some ... erm, dancing academy. That’s what she said it was.”

Haru watched Baron mouth some indistinct words.

“Why, what is it?” She watched him ever more careful. “Baron?”

“It’s... it’s nothing. Who’s he?” This time he tapped the picture with the mysterious man.

“Again, I don’t know. Mum says she doesn’t remember him.”

“They look pretty close.”

“I know.” Her response – which was short in itself – held some underlying emotion. But she didn’t add anything. He was hiding something; she was just hiding her own secrets.

In his head, Baron did some quick calculations of his own; Naoko looked like she was in her early thirties in the photo, Haru was eighteen currently... that meant the photo had been taken at around the same time as Haru’s birth; maybe several years later. He stowed this fact away.

He took another look at the young man in the photo, and then glanced to Haru.

Was it possible that young man was Haru’s father?


	9. Not As They Seem

**Chapter 9: Not As They Seem**

“She’s been to Kinkan.”

Both Muta and Toto looked up suddenly at Baron’s announcement.

“Are... are you sure?”

“Her mother went to Kinkan Academy; even went on to teach there later in life. There’s photographic evidence.” Baron was rifling through the files on the town.

“Do... do you think she was involved in a story?”

“Hard to tell, but...”

“But what?”

“But her mother can’t remember any details from that period, almost as... almost as if she was involved in a story she was dropped from.” He threw a pile of papers to the side that held no interest to him, and carried on digging through the rest.

“Does Haru suspect anything?”

“… No.” Baron frowned and paused demolishing the pile of papers. “In fact, she seemed already resigned to her mother’s forgetfulness. I wonder what else is happening in her family life that she is keeping quiet…”

“Whatever she is, it’s probably private,” Muta interrupted. “Baron, do you think Chicky has any memories of Kinkan?”

“I’m not sure whether it was just her mother who lived there, but Naoko looked old enough for Haru to have already been born.”

“You said she might’ve been dropped from the story?”

Baron stopped his attack on the files entirely and looked over at the other cat. “Yes. It’s rare, but it does happen. Sometimes events in a story cause a character to seemingly vanish. It’s almost as if the writer has just forgotten to include them in the rest of the narrative. There are examples even in old classics – the fool from Shakespeare’s King Lear disappears suddenly, leading to only speculations as to his fate.” Baron kept his eyes downcast at the bundle of files before him. “When a character is… ‘dropped’,” he continued finally, “it depends on the style of story as to what happens to them. A normal story which is only an extension of reality shouldn’t have too many effects, but if Haru and her mother were involved in a Drosselmeyer story… especially one as stretched as the story in Kinkan…” He shook his head. “I expect they have no memories of the place. Naoko certainly won’t, but since Haru’s a Wildcard … she may have been too young at the time to have any memories of the town all the same.”

“So what do you intend to do about this?”

“Do?” Baron stared into the pile of files, willing the answer to come. When it seemed none was going to miraculously turn up, he finally sank down into his seat. “I don’t know. First Kinkan Town reverts to normal, then _If You Listen Closely_ turns up, and now this. It’s all too much to deal with.” His head sunk against his hands for support. “We’re going to have to tell Haru something. We can’t keep all of this from her.”

“And what exactly do you propose we tell her?”

“This Kinkan business may amount to nothing, so we shouldn’t worry her with that now,” Baron muttered from behind his gloves. “However, _If You Listen Closely_ on the other hand… I don’t know. Someone out there had the power to make a story come true, and it wasn’t Drosselmeyer. We should look into that.”

“And Haru?”

The cat doll didn’t reply immediately, and several seconds passed so that the other two began to doubt he’d heard their question. But eventually, his voice spoke again.

“She has a right to know.”

ooOoo

Something tapped against Haru’s bedroom window; jarring her from the book she held in her hands and dumping her back into reality. It took several seconds for the transition to occur, but finally she realised just who was asking to be let in. Clambering over her bed with as much grace as any eighteen-year-old girl can manage at half ten after a few too many sleepless nights, she started unlatching the window.

“Baron! Toto!” She managed to open her window and allowed the two Creations to hop inside. “It’s only been a couple of days since we last met; what have I done to deserve this?”

Toto perched himself stereotypically on the window sill, while Baron stood beside him. “We would have come earlier, but Bureau work caught us unexpectedly,” the Cat Creation explained dutifully.

“Oh, what came up?” Haru asked curiously. Any news from another world was a blessed escape from her own mundane life.

“The help we gave the Mouse Kingdom wasn’t going to go unrewarded, apparently.”

Haru laughed. “They didn’t try to marry you off to their princess or anything, did they?”

“No, fortunately that appears to be a trait reserved solely for the Cat Kingdom. Their reward was more like showing their appreciation through a ceremony.” The expression he made betrayed the fact that he would have been fine without the gesture of thanks.

Haru smiled to herself. “Anyway, was there a reason for your visit?”

“There was.” Baron spotted the book lying forgotten to the side. “In fact it revolves around that book right there.”

Haru turned and retrieved the hardback. “I wanted to see just how similar it actually was,” she admitted. “Looking up the synopsis online is one thing; reading it is another.”

“And... do the similarities... strike you?”

“As odd? Very.” Haru weighed up the book absent-mindedly as she spoke. “You and Toto are just about identical, and even Muta and Lune are recognisable. Yuki’s not in here though – not directly. She’s never named.”

Baron was trying to ease her gently into the truth he was going to have to eventually break. “And... what about your character?”

At this, Haru gave a laugh. “Whoever wrote this, they cast the wrong girl, let’s just put it like that. Takara isn’t anything like me. She’s a graceful dancer, she’s never late and she can’t talk to cats. We’re very different.”

Baron sighed. “Haru, have you heard of ...” He paused, trying not to bring Drosselmeyer into this. He started again. “Haru, sometimes ... sometimes stories seem to be a mirror of life ... or life seems to mirror stories.”

“Like this does?”

“Exactly like this does.”

Haru paused. “Stories mirror life or life mirrors stories?” she clarified. “Which way round do you mean?”

“Maybe I should start from a different point. Haru, there have been ... people in history who can ... alter reality with writing. They can even change people to suit the story.”

“Magic?”

“I suppose you could call it that. That power has become rare now, but there are a few people who still possess that ability.”

“But I don’t see what that has to do with–” She stopped herself and glanced down at the book in her hands. “Oh.” She looked at the hardback with new eyes. “You mean... _this_...”

Slowly, Baron nodded.

“You mean... _we_ were controlled by the story ...?” Some bewildered and lost emotion entered her chocolate orbs. “But... why is Takara...?”

“So different from you?”

Haru tried to reply, but found her mouth had run dry. Instead she just nodded numbly.

“Haru... you’re what is known as a Wildcard.”

“A... what?”

“A Wildcard.” Baron sighed and sat down upon the window sill, bringing their eyes to a more equal level. “A Wildcard is a character in a story that the writer cannot effect. Who you are and what you did in the Cat Kingdom ... that was entirely your own choice. Your own doing.”

Haru’s eyes flitted down warily to the book, unsure whether to be proud of that fact or not. She gave a shaky laugh. “I suppose it was your bad luck that you had to save me rather than Takara then,” she said insecurely, holding back another nervous laugh. “Takara sounds a lot more level-headed than I was. She probably would’ve been a lot easier to save.”

Her eyes down, she didn’t spot the frown that crossed over the Cat Creation’s face. “I’m sure that’s not true–”

“She would’ve kicked you less while dancing,” Haru added. “I was terrible at that – I did say I was a lousy dancer...”

“Takara was written by the author to be the heroine of the book,” replied Baron stiffly before Haru could put herself down any more. “She was meant to be perfect, but real people aren’t perfect; real people are flawed and that’s what makes you human.” He paused, then added, “And Takara wasn’t as brave as you.”

The brunette gave another laugh. “And how do you work that out?”

“Simple. Takara didn’t risk her life to save Lune.”

“Baron, that was just my recklessness. It had nothing to do with bravery.”

“Takara watched and only afterwards took Lune in and nursed him back to health,” he persisted. “It seems to me that although Takara had a kind heart, she wasn’t prepared to put her life on the line for a cat.”

“Baron, not that I’m trying to be disrespectful to cats or anything, but people aren’t expected to risk their lives for a cat. What I did was foolish and shouldn’t be encouraged. Hiromi still thinks I’m crazy for doing that.”

“Nonetheless, you risked your life; Takara didn’t.”

Haru couldn’t find any way to dispute that further, so she let it go. “So, you’re saying that I’m a Wildcard, so that’s why the story didn’t affect me?”

“Precisely.”

“But why isn’t Yuki in it then? Is she a Wildcard too?”

The cat figurine processed this thought. “No, I don’t think she is.”

“But...”

“Yuki only helped you because you fed her as a kitten and probably stopped her starving,” Baron reminded her. “I doubt Takara would’ve done that. Therefore Yuki wouldn’t have helped Takara in the same way she helped you. And Yuki is in the story – it mentions that a maid marries the prince, but she’s never named.”

“Oh. So it’s just me who’s a... a Wildcard.”

Baron nodded. “I believe so.”

“And that just means I’m not affected by stories right? There’s nothing else I should know about?”

Haru had her eyes fixed on the half-cat, so she missed the significant look Toto gave Baron. Baron, however, ignored the crow’s look. There was a heartbeat pause, but then Baron shook his head, saying, “No, there’s nothing else you need to know about,” so smoothly that Haru thought she must have imagined the hesitation.

‘ _If he says so, I suppose I should trust him_.’ She dropped her eyes down, trying not to think about her recent nightmares. ‘ _Those don’t mean anything,_ ’ she told herself forcefully. _‘Anyway, Baron would never harm me_.’

‘ _I hope_.’

She flicked her eyes back up, but the wariness from the other day had returned.

“Maybe we should take another look at _If You Listen Closely_ ,” she suggested, her voice a little subdued now. “Although I haven’t actually finished it yet.”

“I’ve read it twice,” Baron supplied. “I’m sure that you’re a Wildcard.”

“No, not to check that – I believe you about this Wildcard business, but in case there’s something else we’ve missed.”

“Like what?”

Haru was flicking through the pages at the start of the novel so her eyes were purposely avoiding looking at Baron. She stopped. “Like maybe a dedication?” she suggested.

Baron didn’t respond much. “It’s probably for a friend.”

“I don’t think so. Listen to this.” Haru suddenly moved to her desk, placing the book down on there and ran her finger over the line and read, “ _In dedication to the real Baron Humbert von Jikkingen and Louise, who inspired this novel_.” She looked over to the wooden cat. “Who’s Louise?”

 A look not unlike shock was steadily passing over Baron’s face. He stared at the book, then to Haru.

“I... I don’t know.”

Haru picked up the book and moved it to him so that he could read it for himself. “Look – it says there.”

Baron stared at the page, but Haru suspected he wasn’t really seeing the words. “But... I don’t know a Louise,” he said eventually.

“Oh...” Haru frowned. “Well, the name’s not even not quite the same; I suppose it could be a different–”

“How many _other_ Baron Humbert von Gikkingens do you know of?”

He’d unintentionally snapped and Haru’s face fell.

“I was just saying,” she mumbled miserably.

He immediately felt ashamed by his outburst, and even more so following Haru’s response.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologised. “It’s just...” For several rare moments, he was lost for words.

“Weird,” Haru finished glumly.

Baron nodded.

“Well, we could check,” Haru suggested after a few too many moments had passed by in silence. She flicked to the back cover. “There’s usually a bit here about the author – it might tell us where she got her inspiration from. Yes, here. _Shizuku Amasawa originally wrote **If You Listen Closely** at the young age of sixteen when_... blah, blah, blah...” Haru muttered, skimming past the author’s description. “More about her life, blah, blah, blah... ah, here’s something about you. _The inspiration for **If You Listen Closely** was from the wooden cat dolls, Baron Humbert von Jikkingen and his..._ ” She suddenly trailed off.

Baron wasn’t one for impatience, but he couldn’t stop himself from prompting with, “What does it say?”

Haru blinked; some unintelligible emotion now present in her chocolate eyes. She started again. “ _The inspiration for **If You Listen Closely** was from the wooden cat dolls, Baron Humbert von Jikkingen and his.._.” She swallowed, but finished, “ _and his... fiancée_.”


	10. What I've Been Missing

**Chapter 10: What I’ve Been Missing**

There was a terrible silence. Haru wouldn’t look at Baron, and Baron’s eyes were too focused on the page before him to notice. Or if he did notice, his mind was far too preoccupied to mention it.

Eventually he spoke.

“Fiancée?” he echoed hollowly.

“You never knew?”

“ _Fiancée_?” he repeated disbelievingly.

“How can you not know you’re engaged?” shouted Haru.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Baron roared back.

There was an uncomfortable pause between the two of them, until Haru in defeat dropped her head. She sighed and looked away. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s just...”

“Weird,” they said in unison.

Haru flipped the book shut, getting up in the same moment. “Look... maybe this is all just a coincidence...” she offered, but even she did not seem convinced. “Maybe we’re just looking too deep into this...” She glanced to the door. “It’s late; maybe you should be heading back to the Bureau.”

It was a dismissal of sorts; a polite, requested one, but a dismissal all the same. He shouldn’t have shouted at her, he reflected miserably. But instead he only replied with, “Of course.” With a tip of his hat he headed back to the window.

Haru stepped away as Baron leapt easily onto Toto’s back, turning her head away.

 _Fiancée_?

She clenched her eyes shut, but one tear snuck past her defences.

“I’m sorry Baron,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve lost.”

ooOoo

“ _FIANCÉE_?!”

The books that were unlucky enough to be perched on the edge of the desk were sent flying to the ground, quickly accompanied by the files on Kinkan.

“How can I _not_ know I’m engaged?!” Baron growled, sinking into his chair while his shoulders visibly shook. He clenched his eyes shut, dropping his head into his gloved hands.

Toto cawed softly and flew down to the ground level of the Bureau. “Baron, you knew that your Creation status puts you at risk of such–”

The half-cat raised his head brokenly from his hands. “But ... _engaged_ , Toto? I find it hard to believe that something that... that major could just be... could just be forgotten.”

His eyes slid down to the files he’d swept off the desk in his initial anger and his eyes closed in resignation. His voice lost some of its original rage, receding into a lost tone instead. “I know, I know Toto that being a Creation means that I’m easier to be affected in stories, but... but _still_... how can something that important be just...?”

He sighed again, but didn’t open his eyes. “I wonder what happened to her.” There was a pause as both considered the possibilities. Not many of those possibilities were particularly appealing. “I wonder what she looked like,” he added tiredly. Then suddenly his eyes flew open and he got out of his chair, turning to his left. Walking past an old grandfather clock, he faced a portrait of a young white cat, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Although... I’d imagine... she looks... like that.”

Toto hopped carefully over to the Cat Creation, whose emerald eyes were lost in thought.

“Baron, do you ever remember putting that picture up?”

Jadedly, Baron shook his head. “It’s just always been here. Like a part of the Bureau itself.” He dropped his eyes down, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But... _If You Listen Closely_ mentioned some picture like this in the description of the Bureau.”

“And that’s why you reckon it’s here?”

“Yes. Probably the author was just making a reference to the real Louise.”

Suddenly both the Creations struck upon the same idea. They grinned at each other.

“Of course. The author.”

ooOoo

Haru shuffled her feet awkwardly at the train station, peering into her bag for the fifth time that minute. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she mouthed to the cat doll sitting calmly amongst various scarves she had placed to make him comfy.

Baron nodded, but couldn’t stop a small twinge of nerves settle inside him. Haru had been able to track down the name of the shop that Shizuku Amasawa had found him in, but there was no guarantee that it would hold any answers.

The question was, even if it did give answers, would he want to hear the truth?

A screeching of wheels told him the train had arrived and Haru carried the bag carefully on one shoulder as she tried to get onto the carriage without letting the bag get knocked about too much by the crowds. Even so, there was a certain amount of relief present for both the brunette and the Cat Creation when Haru managed to claim a seat.

Haru stared longingly out of the window, suddenly nervous now that she was back on a train. She couldn’t help remembering the nightmares that had occurred last time she’d been on one.

Inside the bag, Baron could see Haru’s face suddenly tense, as if batting off unpleasant memories. It seemed he wasn’t the only one battling with some hidden demons. Remembering where they were, he resisted placing a gloved hand on Haru’s hand that tightly gripped the bag’s strap. Several times she almost let the lull of sleep claim her, but each time she seemed to violently shake herself out of it. Baron watched, puzzled by this behaviour. Sure, she probably didn’t want to miss the stop, but still...

“. _..it was just – just a nightmare. Just a dream..._ ”

Haru’s words from the other day returned to him. Was that it? Just a simple case of nightmares?

Somehow Baron doubted it was that simple.

ooOoo

“Are you sure we’re at the right place?”

Haru moved nervously from foot to foot, glancing down at the address in her hand, then at the building before her. “Quite sure,” she said hesitantly. “Remember, it was quite a while ago since Shizuku found you here – maybe it’s gone out of business since then.”

“Maybe.”

They both regarded the quaint shop before them, trying to imagine a young Shizuku Amasawa first discovering the wooden form of Baron. Eventually Haru added, “It _does_ look a little like the Bureau.”

“That’s probably because Shizuku got the inspiration for the Bureau layout from here.”

“Oh.” Still new to the idea that certain writers could affect reality, the explanation seemed reasonable, if a little strange. “Yeah, I suppose.” She bit her lip nervously. “It looks a little abandoned.”

“The only way to find that out is to knock.”

“Yeah...”

Feeling a little foolish at standing awkwardly outside the shop, she made to move forward to tap at the front door, but at her touch, the door revealed itself to be only ajar and so swung inward at her contact.

“Hello?” The room was dark, although a lamp in the corner dimly lit the room. Haru’s hand gripped the bag strap for reassurance, unsure what to make of this complication. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

A form appeared at the bottom of the steps at the far end of the room, although the form seemed distorted. Violently squishing back the urge to run, Haru stood her ground and waited for the person to reveal themselves. A few moments later the shadow arrived at the top of the stairs, now on the same floor as Haru, and it became clear that it was just a person carrying a large cardboard box. He seemed equally shocked to see someone standing in the doorway.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, yes... have you heard of a wooden cat figurine called Baron Humbert von Gikkingen?” It was a long shot, but it was the only lead she had been able to find. “You probably don’t have him anymore but...”

She trailed off, but only because the stranger was now staring at her. He was quite tall, dark haired and must have been about ten or so years older than her. He quickly dumped the box – which Haru could now be seen to be full of antiques – and stared at her with some emotion Haru couldn’t pin down.

“You’ve seen the Baron?” he asked hoarsely.

“So you have heard of him?” Haru replied excitedly.

“Yes... well, not for... not for a long time.”

“How long?”

“It’s been nearly a decade.”

“Did... did you also have another... doll? One called Louise?”

Now the man gave a strained laugh. “No, no there never was the Baroness here. My grandfather only ever acquired Baron – the Baroness was taken by his sweetheart, but the war separated them. We never discovered what happened to her.”

“Oh.” Her eyes flitted down to the floor, feeling Baron’s disappointment even without looking at him. “Thanks for your help all the same.” All this, all this way. For nothing.

Before she tried to leave, the man grabbed her wrist. “Have you seen the Baron?” he repeated.

Haru hesitated, but then saw the longing in the man’s eyes. She placed a hand into her bag and felt Baron revert to his wooden state before bringing him out. “Was this the Baron you remember?”

His dark eyes widened; his hand moved towards the wooden figurine. “May I?”

Haru nodded and passed across Baron, ignoring the sudden irrational possessive feeling she had as she released the Creation from her hold.

‘ _Cut it out_ ,’ she mentally scolded herself. ‘ _He doesn’t mean any harm, and Baron doesn’t belong to you._ ’

“Yes... there have been a few changes – the coat is a slightly lighter shade, and the bowtie and vest have been altered entirely, but that was to be expected,” mused the stranger, turning round the Baron in a thoughtful manner. “His eyes still shine though. That’s good. And he still has the cane and top hat.” He grinned a little ruefully. “Can’t imagine him without those.”

Haru smiled to herself as the memory of him wielding the cane before two cat guards rose to her mind. “He’s been needing a new cane though,” she added.

For some reason, this made the man laugh. “Yes, well after his adventure in the Cat Kingdom, I’m not surprised. He even mentioned that he needed a new one.”

Haru stiffed. “Sorry?”

“Oh, sorry. What you said – it just reminded me of the story that was based around him.”

“Oh.” Haru laughed at her mistake in forgetting about _If You Listen Closely_. “Yes, I’ve heard of it. Does... does Shizuku still visit this place?”

 Suddenly, the laughter in the man’s eyes died. He placed Baron gently down on the table. “She used to.”

“Do you know where she is?” Haru asked eagerly. “Do you think I could talk to her?”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself sooner,” the man said, his hand gripping the table tightly to keep it from shaking. “I’m Seiji Amasawa.”

“You’re Shizuku’s husband? So you know where–”

“Yes, I know where Shizuku is,” he cut in. “Unfortunately, she isn’t in a position to be of any help. I’m sorry – did you know her?”

“She’s my first cousin once removed, I believe.”

The wooden form of Baron suddenly seemed to topple, almost falling off the table. Haru’s hand shot out and caught him, spotting the look of pure shock even though he was still wood in her hands.

Seiji shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said – again – “but you obviously didn’t get... didn’t get told. We tried to contact everyone we thought might have known her...”

Her hand still around Baron, she tensed. “What happened?”

“A year ago she... she was involved in a... in a train accident. Do you remember the one on the news last summer?”

Haru nodded mutely.

“She didn’t survive.”

“Oh... I’m... I’m sorry.”

His dark eyes dropped sorrowfully to the wooden doll Haru was now clutching possessively. He idly wondered whether she knew she was even doing so. “It’s okay. I’m still coming to terms with it, but it’s a shame you never got to meet her.” His eyes phased out, perhaps remembering the redhead he loved.

“Can you tell me about her? About... her writing?”

He flicked his gaze back to the young brunette before him. “Yes, I suppose. She only ever wrote _If You Listen Closely_ , but she spent a lot of time on it. She told me later she had had a different idea on the storyline she wanted to write; which based itself more on the loss of the Baroness – or Louise, I suppose – but although she never forgot it, she decided to change it in favour of the Cat Kingdom adventure. However, she did make one reference to Louise in her finished story – there’s mention of a portrait that matches Louise’s description if you read carefully – but she didn’t bring the Baroness into the story directly.”

“Why?”

“Why? I think she said something about how it’d make more sense for Takara to develop feelings for the Baron if the Baroness wasn’t present. Also it gave him more of a sense of mystery if he didn’t seem to have past.”

“Oh.”

“Shizuku wrote him as if he had never known a Louise, but she couldn’t resist putting in one mention of her all the same.”

“Oh,” Haru repeated, struggling to find anything else to say. She glanced mutely around the old antique store. “Is the owner of the store around – could I–?”

Seiji shook his head again. “He passed away last week. In fact you were lucky to catch me – this place is going to be sold off and I was clearing everything away.” He patted the cardboard box consolingly. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of stuff he had crammed away.”

“Did... did you know him?”

“He was my grandfather.”

Haru winced and closed her eyes. ‘ _Every time I think I find a safe subject, it turns out someone’s died._ ’ Out loud she said, “I’m sorry. How did he die?”

“He passed away in the night peacefully, so we’re glad that at least it was a dignified death.”

Haru nodded, but found that to be not much of a comfort. She gave a quick bow of her head. “Well, thank you for your time, sir; I think I should be going.”

“Wait, can you just tell me where you found Baron?”

Halfway through dropping the wooden form of Baron into her bag, she froze. Technically, Baron _did_ belong to Seiji; would he ask for him back? “I... acquired him. He just sort of fell into my life.”

“It’s just that the Baron disappeared shortly after Shizuku finished her story. We didn’t know what happened to him.” Seiji glanced at Baron in Haru’s possessive grip. “ _If You Listen Closely_ seemed to take a lot out of Shizuku; she never quite had the drive to write again – not like she did with the first story anyway. And then he went missing. We didn’t know whether he had been stolen or just lost, but there were much more valuable things in the shop so why anyone would just take him, we never knew.”

“D-do you want him back?” Haru was hating herself for asking, but her conscious wouldn’t let her avoid it. “I mean, I just found him... or rather he found me... so he is yours... technically...” Her voice trailed off miserably at the end.

Seiji smiled at the young brunette, noting the way her hand curled around the Baron like a lifeline. He shook his head. “No, I don’t need him,” he said softly, amused by the surprise and relief that flooded onto the girl’s face. “A decade is a long time and I’ve moved on. No, it seems as if he’s found a new owner.”

Haru grinned ecstatically. “Thank you!” In her delight she suddenly wrapped Seiji in an impulsive childlike hug. “I can see why Shizuku liked you; you’re cool.”

Seiji chuckled a bit at the praise. “Thank you. Does the Baron really mean that much to you?”

Haru released him and glanced down at the cat doll in her hand. “He’s helped me get through a lot,” she said truthfully, meeting Baron’s emerald eyes to show him her authenticity. “I don’t know where I would be without him.” Even though his wooden state, his smile seemed to warm a little.

Seiji smiled. “Then he is certainly more use to you than to me. It was nice meeting you, Miss...”

“Haru.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Miss Haru. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you.”

“Oh, no. You’ve explained a lot.”

‘ _More than you could imagine_.’


End file.
